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SPECIMENS

Carip CngM ^etttcal Eomance0>

CHIEFLT WRITTEN

DURING THE EARLY FART

THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY;

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED

AN HISTORieAL INTRODUCTION,

INTENDED TO ILLUSTRATE THE
RISE AND PROGRESS OF ROMANTIC COMPOSITION
IN FRANCE AND ENGLAND^

BY GEORGE ELLIS, ESQ.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. I.

LONDON:
PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME,

PATERNOSTER-ROW ;
AND A. CONSTABLE AND CO. EDINBURGH.

1805.

R. Taylor and Co. Printers,
No. 38, Shoe-Lane, Fleet-Street.

ADVERTISEMENT.

The following volumes are intended to sup-
ply a chasm in the " Specimens of Early
English Poets^^^ by explaining more fully the
progress of our poetry and language, from
the latter part of the thirteenth to the middle
of the fourteenth century ; and to exhibit a
general view of our romances of chivalry, in
their earliest and simplest form.

These romances are divided into the fol-
lowing classes : — Ist, Romances relating to
King Arthur ; Sd, Anglo-Saxon romances ;
Sd, Anglo-Norman romances ; 4th, Romances
relating to Charlemagne ; 5th, Romances of
Oriental origin ; and 6th, Miscellaneous ro-
mances.

The editor has followed, with little devia-
tion, the plan adopted by M. Le Grand in his
edition of the French Fabliaux ; and has
faithfully given, in plain prose, not only the
general outline but even the smallest incidents

A 2

IV ADVERTISEMENT.

of each story : but he has thought it necessary
to intersperse, throughout the narrative, such
passages of the originals as appeared to him
worth preservuig, either from their poetical
merit, — from their representing correct pictures
of antient manners,— or from their being cha-
racteristic of the author's feelings, or of those
of the nation.

It would be absurd to state that the subject
is now exhausted. Much early poetry, both
of the miscellaneous and romantic kind,
doubtless remains in various libraries, and
has escaped the researches of the present
editor ; but he has completed the object
which he proposed to himself, and trusts that
he has been instrumental in rendering acces-
sible to common readers no inconsiderable
portion of our early national literature.

CONTENTS

OF VOL. I.

INTRODUCTION.

SECTION I.

View of the changes tuhich took place in the
Romance or French Language in consequence of
the first Danish Invasion, — Its Preservation and
Improvement ly the same People after their
Establishment in Normandy. — Their first At"
tempts at Composition, — Their Style improved hy
the Clergy ,^^Remarks on their Minstrels, page 1

SECTION II.

First Romances merely Metrical Histories, '^Origin

of Romantic Fiction ascribed by Rishop Percy

to the Northern Nations — Ry Mr, JVarton to

the Arabians — Ry otliers attributed to the Celtic

Tribes ofArmorica, Wales, ^c, — Attempt to

reconcile these Opinions, — Probability that the

first French Romances were written in England,

— Authorities in support of this Supposition* 24
8

VI CONTENTS.

SECTION III.

Researches of the Normans concerning British His^
tory. — Materials to tvhich they had Access, —
Gildas. — Nennius, — British Traditvons rejected
hf William of Malmeslury ,hut adopted I y others,
"^Summary of the British Chronicle by Geoffrey
of Monmouth page 42

SECTION IV.

Summary ofGeqjffrey's Vita Merlini.— /Ti^wiry into
ike Materials from which it is likely that the
Chronicle tvas originally compos ed.-^^Conjecture
concerning the fabulous Arthur 73

SECTION V.

Inquiry into the State of Wales, during the ele^
venth, twelfth, and thirteenth Centuries. — Inti*
mate Connections of the Welsh and Normans. —
I/^uence of this on Romance. — State of the Welsh
Tribes within the Scotish Border, — Probability
that some original and many translated Ro-
mances were the Work of Scotish Poets, — Con-
clasion 101

CONTENTS. . VU

APPENDIX, No. I.

Analysis of the Work of Alphonsus de Clericoli
Discipline, in the Royal Library of the Museum
(Bill. Reg. 10 ^ XII *) communicated to the
Editor hy Mr. Douce page 127

APPENDIX, No. II.
Translation of the Lays of Marie 133

Romances relating to Arthur 193

Merlin, Part 1 I95

Merlin, Part 2 233

Morte Arthur 30S

* By some accident this reference has been omitted in
the text, where it should have been placed between the
brackets, page 1S7, line 9. — In page 9, line 18, the reader Is
requested to substitute the word support for the word
** subsist ;*' in page 270, note, lolling for ** oiling ;** in
page 273, line 16, theiT for " its;" in page 279, line 25»
ruLmes for ** ames ;" in page 282, line 15, after for «* by ;"
in page 306, line 22, pertinacions for *< pcrtinactous."

INTRODUCTION.

SECTION I.

View of the Changes which took place in the
Romance or French Language, in conse^
quence of the first Danish Invasiom^^^Its
Preservation and Improvement ly the same
People after their Estallishment in NoT"
mandy, — Their Jirst Attempts at Compost^
tiim. — Their Style improved by the 0ergy*
— Remarks on their Minstrels.

It is generally admitted that the word Romancei^
was first enipl<yjred to signify the Roman langai|ge
as spoken in the Europe^ pvoviiiGefi of ih% em^ve ;
and diat^ in its most extensive sense^ tt comprised
all the dialects of which the basis was the vulgar
Lattn> whatever might be the odier materiids^>«V!))ilclh
^Hitered into their construction. The name was>
therefeife, eq^s^y applkal^ to the Italian^ the l^->

f Inokiyreficliit i8:80iRetkiiee^mtteni2<mtan,an4< some-
times Rmnttntf whenet our £Bf|fi«K ftord.
VOL. I. B

nish, and French ; and was sometimes^ though in-
correctlyj- applied to the vulgar languages, of other
coui^tries* j but the earliest and most familiar use
of the word in this island was to express that dialect
of the French which had been introduced among
us by the Norman conquest. It was afterwards, by
an easy transition) employed to signify indiscrimi-
nately all such works as were composed in that
dialect ; and lastly, in consequence of the growing
fondness of. our Norman ancestors for tales of chi-
valry, became exclusively appropriated to this spe-
cies of composition.

Such being the variations which have taken place
in the meaning of the word, it seems necessary
that we should endeavour to ascertain, at least by
approximation, the dates of these changes; and it

• will probably appear that an inattention to this pre-
liminary has produced much of the difference of
opinion which at present prevails respecting the

•origin of Romantic fiction.

' The best French historians inform us that tlie
Ron^ance began to supersede the Latin as a colloquial
language in Gaul about the beginning of the ninth

.century. The several corruptions introduced by
a succession of barbarous nations had been blended

' ^ A remarkable instance of its application to the English
tt quoted by Mr, Ritson from C^raldus Cambrensis.

bto a common mass, and. gradually formed a lan-
guage which, from its copiousness, from the sim-
plicity of its grammar, and from its close analogy
to the dialects of the neighbotiring nations, was
d. more useful instrument of general intercourse
than the Latin, though less suited to literary coiii-
pmitions, to which, in the first instance, it cannot
be supposed to have been applied. Indeed the Latin
could not be immediately and totally forgotten,
even by the vulgar, because the greater number of
its words were retained in the new jargon, and
:because it was still the vehicle of religious instruc-
tion 5 and the medium of all written contracts be-
tween individuals, as well as of all laws issued by
the sovereign. Of the Romance language in this
early state very few written specimens can have
existed ; yet, of these few, one has been fortunately
preserved.

The kings of France of the second race adopted,
after the example of Charlemagne, the injudicious
practice of dividing their dominions among their
children 5 ^hose ambition, thus excited, led to a
long succession of civil discord. The sons of Louis
le Debonnaire, even during his lifetime, were con-p
rfitantly in arms against each other, and often against
■their father 5 and their dissensions after his death
prodiiced a. dreadful waste of blood during the war

whkh Was telmb^tfed by the destractive liattle of
Vodtendy, in June 841. It was therefore thought
necessaiy that their reconciliation should be mark«
^ bj the greatest possible degree of solemnity)
ifaeir resp^ctire armies were called in as witnesses
and parties to the oath by which they boiind them«
selves to rest satisfied with the division of territory
Anally adjudged to each ; and, that the terms of
this oath might be perfectly intelligible, it was
translated into the vulgar tongue of the several na-^
^ons. Louis le Germaiiique addressed the French
army of his brother in Romance', Charles le Chauve
read his oath in the Tudesque, or Teutonic, to the
soldiers of Loiiis ; and both received the assent of
the troops to the agreement in the same languages
tespectively. This curious monument of the Ro-
mance tongue, the most antient specimen now ex<^
isting, is to be found in Lacombe's Pre&ce to the
Supplement df his Dictionnaire du Vieux Langage,
and in Mr. Ritson*s Dissertation on Romance and
Minstrelsy.

It appears from this specimen that the Romance
of the year 842, which very nearly resembled the
pres^it Proven9al, was the general language of
'France, and not a southern dialect 5 because the
.|>rovinces of Aquitaine and Neustria were the ori-
.ginal dominibns of Charles t they had be^ con-

firmed to him in the present treaty^ and their inha^
bitants formed a great part of his army. At the same
time the Prankish, or Teutonic, is said to have pre-
vailed in 9ome of the eastern provinces*, that is to
say, in Franche Ck>mt^ and the Lyonese, as well as
in the countries bordering on the Bhine, the Meiise^
and the Scheld.

But the unifonnily of the Romance language was
not of long duration. In 845, a formidable army of
Danes or Normans entering the Seine, carried their
depredations to the very gates of Paris -, and th^
booty thus obtained encouraging them to fresh en-*
terprises, they renewed them alpiost without inter-r
mission, and formed a permanent establislupent i|)
the western provinces, which they gradually ex<«
tended till the year gi2, when their usur{»tionf
were confirmed to them by a treaty with Charles
the Simple. BoUo received in marriage the king's
daughter Giselle, and for her dower th^ sovereignty
of Neustria, since called Normandy, together with
extensive rights in Britany, on the sole conditions
of embracing Christianity, and of putting a stop tq^

* At the council held at Tours in 813, it was directed
that the Homilies shall be translated <* in nisticam linguam
Romanam, aut Theotiscam;** and the same was ordered at
the couBcil of Aries in 851.

the devastations which had been continued during
half a century.

From these invasions ultimately resulted the di-
vision of the Romance language into an almost
infinite number of dialects, which subsisted during
the greater part of the tenth century. It is not meant
that the Normans materially contributed to this
change, by importing into tlie conquered country a
barbarous jargon composed of foreign and discor-«
dant materials ; because it is evident that their in-
fluence in this respect must have been confined to
the territory within which they formed their esta-
blishment. But uniformity of speech throughout
a large extent of country can only arise from an
easy and constant intercourse between its inhabi-
tants ; and the interruption of this intercourse must
jgive birth to a diversity of dialects. The prevalence
of the Latin had resulted from the extent and stabi-
lity of the Roman empire ; and the purity of the
Romance could only have been preserved by the
permanence of that of Charlemagne. His partition
of his extensive territory, and the disputes amongst
bis iinmediate successors, enervated the strength of
the French monarchy, and laid open the country
to the ravages of the northern invaders 3 whose tri-r
Yimphs were less pernicious from the misery they

immediately produced^ than from the example of
successful usurpation which they held out to pri-
vate ambition. France was parcelled out amongst
a number of petty tjrrants, always In arms against
each pther^ or against their sovereign; and the
vulgar tongue^ not yet subjected to the rules of
grammar^ or fixed by any just models of composi-
tion, was abandoned to all the innovations which
might arise either from the ignorance or from the
mixed races of the inhabitants, in the several inde-
pendent districts into which the country was di-
vided.

Nor was this all. During the striange revolutions
of the tenth century the whole scheme of society
was essentially altered ; so that it became necessary,
to invent new names for a great variety of new
relations, and arbitrarily to enlist these barbarous
words into the Latin; from whence they were again
transferred into all the vulgar languages of Europe.
Thus arose a new Latinity, which has given no
small disturbance to modem et3anologists.

It is not necessary that we should search minute-
ly for the several causes of that scene of confrision
called the feudal system ; but there is one of the
changes introduced by it which requires to be briefly
noticed, because it has contriliuted to give much of
their distinctive colouring to the species of compo-

I^iohs commonly cMled toolanc^s. This -Was ib^
establlshmekit of an her editaiy nobilitj'.
. When the Franks took possesalon of Gaul, they
teem to faaTe £vided the property of the eonqueree}
Into Salic lands and military hen^fices*. The for-*
iner were the porticsis of land allotted^ in the first
Instance, to tb^ conquerors in absolute property.
TbA latter were left to the original proprietors,
^mth the mserve of a tonsiderahle part of their
revenues^ to defray the expenses of government ;
4hey answered th^ purposes of our civil list j and a
certain allotment of territory formed the salaries of
«11 ith^ civil and military officers, who were nomi-
nated by the piince, and held their ofBces for life,
^Badi htn^cts therefore were strictly livings, and
igaTC their name to the benefices <if the church,
^hich they f^ctly {esembledj and every inhabi-
i^t of the country, iji^ietjber of Frankisb or Gallic
.origin, being equally eligible to every office at the
^ai>le discretion of tbe.sovel^ij^n, there was no per^
manent distinction of rank in the state, except that
^ pdnce and sUli^j^. But during the impotence
<if the cvortm under ib& kings of thfe second race, the
Dukes, or gbvenl^ife of provinces, the £arls, or go-
tfemors bf towns, mid ^fym^ other officers of state,

* See H^atilt^s Remarques pat'ticuli^res &ur la seconde

extorted the hereditary establishment of their re»
spective dignities in their own families ; and> uniting
the property of the land with the right of admini-
stering justice, became the real sovereigns of the
districts over which they had before presided as
temporary magistrates*. The ambition of the de-
legates who extorted, and the weakness of the
princes who made these concessions, may be easily
accounted for } but we can only explain the acqui-
escence of the nation in an exchange of freedom
for the most complicated slavery, by the intolera-
ble nusery to which they had been reduced by the
Norman invasions. Indeed, the Norman writers tell
us that Rollo was compelled to stipulate for the
grant of certain rents in Britany, because it was im-
possible, in consequence of the ravages committed
by his own orders, or those of his predecessors, to
subrist his army in the fertile province of Nor-
mandy.

But these ferocious men had no sooner settled
themselves in their conquests, than they eagerly
adopted, and cultivated with the greatest care, the
)aogu2^ of the vanquished. William I., the im-

* The establishment of this monstrous sptem is usually
placed under the reign of Raoul, who was raised to the
throne of France A. D. 923.

mediate successor of Rollo, being desirous that his
son Richard should acquire some knowledge of the
Danish, found it necessary to have him educated at
Baieux, rather than at Rouen, where the Romance
had already obtained a decided preference * -, and it
was to the capital of Normandy that the French
were indebted for the preservation of their vulgar
tongue, which there found an asylum under an active
and vigorous government; while France itself, till
.near the end of the tenth century, was torn to pieces
by contending factions. It continued indeed to be
spoken at Paris ; but its genei al diflusion over Eu-
rope was the work of the Normans. By them it
was first employed in composition 5 and it may
perhaps be fairly assumed, that the people of
Picardy, and of the other provinces to the north of
the Loire, whose dialects had already a mixture of
the Teutonic, would readily assimilate them to the
speech of a neighbouring province, whose, inhabi-
tants had astonished the world by the unexampled
splendour of their conquests.

The earliest specimen of northern French litera-
ture is a metrical life pf Wandril and of some other
saints, translated from the Latin by Thibaut de
Vernon, Canon of Rouen, about the middle, per-

* See Dudon of St. Quentin, p. 83. ed. Duchesne.

haps, of the eleventh century*; but no copy of this
work has yet been discovered. The next in point
of antiquity^ according to the French historians^ was
the poem on the first crusade, compiled from the
Latin chronicles of the time by the Chevalier Be-
chada of Limoges. This, however, has been also
lost; but the dialect in which it was written may be
inferred firom his having undertaken it by the ad-
vice of Gaubert, a Norman. It is supposed to have
been begun about the year 1112, and finished about
1125; and admitting this date, it is less antient
than the first work of Philippe de Than, called the
^' Liber de Creaturis," a French pietrical treatise
on chronology, written soon after the year 1106,
and described by the Abbe de la Rue. Another work
by the same, is a poem on natural history, trans-
lated from the Bestiarius, and finished after 1121 :
after which we have the Proverbs of Solomon in
verse, by Samson de Nanteuil; a British and Anglo-
Saxon history, by Geoffroi Qaimar j and a history of
Henry I., alluded to in that poem as the composition
of one David ; all written, as the Abbe de la Rue very
reasonably supposes, during the reign of Stephen.

• M. de la Rue says, ** a long time before the conquest:**
M. dc la Ravaillere,outhe contrary, seems to place Thibaut's
work about 1 108. Yet they both cite the same authority,
liz. Vol. III. p. 379. ef the Benedictine historians.

This series of facts and dates seemi to lead to the
following conclusions : First, that the northern Ro^
mance^ or Norman French, was not edpployed as a
written language till very near the tirae of the con-r
quest 5 and secondly, that, during ahout an hundred
years which elapsed between the middle of the
eleventh century and the accession of Henry II. in
H54, all the principal compositions in that lan-r
guage were either devotional and nM)ral tracts, lives
of saints. Scientific treatises, or chronicles. All of
these were metrical j and generally, perhaps uni-
versally, translations. The minor compositions
were, probably^ much more numerous ; and seem
to have consisted of war songs, satirical songs, en-^
comiastic songs, and of sonaething like historical
ballads. Of the first class, the most celebrated in*
stance is the chanson de Rolland*, which was sung
by the minstrel Taillefer at the battle of Hastings :
the serventois ox satirical songs seem to have formed

* The late Mr. Ritson, in his Dissertation on Romance and
Minstrelsy, p. xxxvi, has said, ** The real chanson de Rolland
was, unquestionably i a metrical ronymce, •£ great length,
upon the fatal battle of Roncevaux, of which Taillefer only
chanted a part." Hfe probably meant no more than that he
did not wish the assertion to be questioned. William of
Malmesbury, whom he quotes, says, ** Caktilena RoUandi
inchoat&j &c." which seems to mean a song, and not a metric
cal romance of great length.

t priixipal amusement of the amiies during tha

first crusade^ | and they may be presumed to have

I^XMmded so as to give great offence in England,

tioce Henry I.^ sumamed leBeau-clerc, either on

account :of his literary attainments or in honour of

his liberal patronage, thought fit to punish a satirist,

the Chevalier Luc de la Barre, by putting out his

eyes f . The number of encomiastic ^ongs may be

iolerred from the extensive largesses to minstrels

which aie recorded during this period; and the con-*

tem^rary tnriters not unfrequently cite the histo«

rical X ballodft of the time as authorities for occa-

* La RavaiUere, Vol. I. p. 260. who transcribes a passage
in tht Gesta Dei per Francos, p. 180. in proof of the fact*

5Abb€ de la Rue. Archaeol. Vol. XII. p. 301.
Ordericus Vitalis, speaking of Si. WiUiam^ says, ** Vulgo
tanitur a joculatffnbu$ de iUo eAim%.EifJi: sed jure praefa*
renda est relatio autheatica quae a reii^btis doctoribus so^
lerter est edita, et a studiosis lectoribus reverenter lecta est,
in communi fratrum audientia. Scriptores Norman, ap. Du^
chesne, p. 598." This relatio authentica, of which Orderi-
cus gives an abridgement, seems to have formed the devo*
tional romance of Gufllaume au Court-nez, a French com-*
inaiuler employed by Charlemagne against the Saracens in
Spain, and rewarded for his services by a present of thie
duchy of Aquitaine. St. William ended hisdays in a cloister.
His romance, according to Le Grand, was written in Pro-
vencal by a Troubadpur, as was also Philiunena, which con-
tains some military anecdotes of Charlemagne. See Preface
wx FaMimx, Ac.

fiiohal anecdotes. But it may be safely affirmed that
no trace of a professed work of fiction; no sem-»
blance of an epic fable ; in shorty no specimen of
what we should now call a romance, is to be found
before the middle of the twelfth century ; indeed
this period might, perhaps, be still further ex-
tended.

The preceding list, it is true, can only be admitted
as negative evidence ) and it may be objected, that
many writers are likely to have existed besides
those whose works have been preserved, or whose
names have been accidentally recorded by theif
surviving contemporaries : it may also be contend-
ed, that the minstrels of those times, who, like their
predecessors the Bards and Scalds, were accustomed
to preserve in their traditional rhymes various anec-
dotes of religious as well as military history, may
be supposed to have formed a certain stock of fabu-
lous narratives, which they recited for the amuse-
ment of a less devout or more indolent class of
hearers.

To the first of these objections it would be easy
to find an answer, if it were necessary to inquire
into the subject of compositions whose existence,
though certainly possible, is not very probable : but
the second objection may deserve to be examined
at large, although we are unable after all to offer
any thing more than a conjectural history of what

may be (^ed the traditional literature of {his
period.

That a class of men who cultivated the arts of
amusement as a profession^ were known and es^
teemed by the Normans at the time of the con«
quest, is undeniably proved by the evidence of
Domesday-book 5 in which we find a certain Bbrdic
possessed of a large tract of land in Gloucestershire,
under the title ofjoculator regis. The register, of
course, does not explain the talents of this jocula-
tor, or jougleur ; but it may be fairly assumed that
they were similar to those of the minstrel Taillefer^
who, as Wace informs us, '^ moult bien chantout,"
and who preceded the Duke of Normandy at the
battle of Hastings, *' singing about Charlemagne,
and Holland, and Olivier, and the vassals who died
at Roncesvalles." We are further informed by
Craimar, that he performed many marvellous feats
of dexterity : throwing his lance into the air as if
it wexfi a small stick | catching it by the point be-
fore he cast it against the enemy; and repeating the
same operation with his sword, so tliat they who
beheld him considered him as a conjurer-'—

L'un dit a Taltre ki co veit,
Ke CO esteit enchantement,
Ke cil fesait devant la gent.
Quant, &c.

Kow, unless it coold be proved that the Noc'^
mans adopted the profession of minstrelsy front
the French, of which there is no evidence, it must
follow that they carried it with them from Den*>
mark^ and as Bishop Percy has dbown that a cha*
racter nearly analogous existed amongst the Danes
as well as the Anglo-Saxons^ the derivadon of the
minstreb fi^om the Scalds and Glee-men of the
North, as established in the Essay prefixed to the
'* Reliques of Ancient English Poetry,'* seems to
xest upon as ^r historical testimony as can be re*-
quired in confitmation of such an opinion.

It may, therefore, be reasonably admitted that
fiollo carried with him his domestic bards, who,
when their native idiom began, to fjdl into disuse^
would have been compelled to exercise their talents
in the newly ^fiulopted language ; hut still the suc-
cess of their poetical efforts must have depended on
-die state in which they found this language, to the
perfection of which they could not, from their
"want of learning, materially contr&ute.

It is true that the first progress of mankind, from
a rude and uncouth jargon to settled fi>n!its ^
speech, has been^ in almost every country, attri-
buted to poetry. Hence the deification of the
Muses, the fable of Orpheus, and various allego-
ries all over the world. 'In fact^ however savage a

society May be^ it certainty inust be Com^dsed of
the t^o sexes ; and it is at least probable that th^
males will sometimes amuse themselves by court-
ing the females^ and sometimes by fighting with
each other^ either from rivalry, or fix>m ambition^ eft
from the mere honour and glory of producing dd»
struction. Love and war, therefore, to which
perhaps we may add the hopes and feats suggested
by superstition, will afford the first theikies for the
efforts of infant language ; and as every language
must be composed of sounds varying in quantity^
or in adcent, or susceptible of aUiteration, or distin^
guishable into pauses by die recurrence of rh3rme,
all of which expedients afford the means of fixing a
series of short sentences in the memory, it is hot
easy to conceive a nation which does not pdssest
some rudiments of poetry* Versej therefore, ii
anterior to prose, because our passions are anterior
to reason and judgment j because vocal sounds are
the natural expressions of emotion, not of reflect
lion 3 and because the analysis of thought is the
result of long abstraction. It is true that the poet>
during the progress of civilization, may assist in
promoting not only the beauty but the accuracy of
language, by the vivid illustration of metaphor, and
by nice distinctions in the shades of expression i
but SLdtrnt$mg that such a poetical spirit is to b#

VOL. i> c

fomi'm-tiiiei SanisU Sc^ldsj it do^.not fpUow that
j|: w^s or t^oiM be tnmsjdiitted to the Nprmtm

: Xt must berem^i^bjered that the iRomaoce tongue
yrasj in its origin^ ,a correction of ib^ hsLtln, and
jp^uired nothiag more for the pmpo^ g[ adapting
ijt to. eyQr3r' species of comppsitioa tfian a nearer
jassimilation to its parei^t language, which, from
Sequent u$e in the mo^t fawliar intercourse oif
Jet^s, as well as in all legal contracts, had gradur
^y adopted a grammar perfectly analogous to that
of the ^Uoquial dialects of furc^. We should
.therefore expect to see this io^rovement, so soon
0s the learned, that is to s^y, the clergy, should find
."themselves interested in opening to the illiterate,
trough the medium of the vulgar topgue, those
iitQres.of liter^re,to which they alone had access.
Now it is difficult to imagine a/cqncuirence of cjr<^
cumstances more likely to excite this interest, than
that which took place towards the close ef the
eleventh and the conunenoement of the twelfiih
pejntury. Jt was then that the madness of pilf
grimage, which had long pi^vailed among the
Normans, a^d had carried, in 1064, a body of se*
yenty thousand fanatics into , the Holy Land» became
epidemical throughout Europe, and produced the
^t cnmde Qsk IQgff)^ iwhipb, b^ pacing a Christ

tiim ^nnce on the throne of JenualeHi, led thewdj
lo a long soecession of these holy expeditions.

Whatever may have been the means employed
by Peter the Hermit^ and aiiarwards by St. Ber*
tiard^ to excite ^ spirit of enthnsiasm^ which was> ia
various ways, so beneficial to the churchy it was
evidently impbrtant that the clergy in general shoold
be furnished with the means of enfixcing^ as \ridely
as possible> the most persuasive arguments in its
favour $ and consequently that the vulgar tongue
should becorbe a principal object of clerical attend
tion. Since^ therefore^ the earliest French compos
sitiops which we possess are generally^ if not uni*
versally^ translations ; and since their authors^ when
not distinguished by any ecclesiastical titles^ usually
qualify themselves by the a^^llation of clercs, a
name expressive of their pretensions to some eru^^
dition 5 it seems unreasonable to assign^ without
any authority> to an unlearned class of men> the
anterior invention of works of fiction j a species of
composition whidi may be termed the luxury of
literature^ usually growing out of ^d indicating
a large previous stock of necessary aad useful
learning.

Tlie following may perhaps be accepted as a
tolerable summary oE the history of the minstrels.
It appears likely that they were carried by Rolle

into France, where they probably introduced a cer»
tain number of their native traditions ; those, for
instance, relating to Ogier le Danois, and other
northern heroes, who were afterwards enlisted into
the tales of ichiyalry ; but that, b^ing deprived of the
mythology of their origiilal religion, and cramped
"perhapd, as well by the sober spirit of Christianity^
•as by the imperfection of a language whose tame-
ness was utterly inapplicable to the sublime obscu-
rity of their native poetry, they were obliged to
adopt various modes of amusing, and to unite the
talents of the mimic and the juggler, as a compen-
sation for the defects of the musici^ and poet.
Their musical skill, however, if we may judge from
•the number of their instruments, of which very
formidable catalogues are to be found in every de^
scription of a royal festival, may not have been
contemptible ; and their poetry, even though con-
fined to short compositions, was not likely to be
void of interest to then: hearers, while employed on
the topics of flattery or satire* Their rewards were
certamly, in sonie cases, enormous, and prove the
esteem in which they were held ^ though this may
be partly ascribed to the general thirst after amuse-
inent; and the difficulty experienced by the great in
dissipating the tediousness of life ; so that the gift
of three parishes ui Gloucestershire, assigned by

William the Conqoeror for the Rupport of his Joctf*>
hUsfr, may perhaps he a less accurate measure of
the minstrers accomplishments than of the mo*
narch's power and of the insipidit)^ of his court. >
To the talents already enumerated the minstrels
added, soon after the hirth of French literature^ the
important occupation of the Auair or dedawier.
Perhaps the declamation of xnetrical compositions
might have required, during their first state of
imperfection, some kind of chant, and even thef
assistance of some musical instruments, to supply
the deficiencies of the measure \ perhaps the aids of
gesture and pantomime * may hare been necessary
to relieve the monotony of a long recitation : but at
all events it is evident, that an author who wrote for
the public at large, during the eleventh, twelfth, and
thirteenth centuries, was not less dependent for his
success on the minstrels, than a modem writer (^
tragedy or comedy on the placers of the present day;
A copyist might multiply manuscripts for the supply
of convent-libraries ; but while ecclesiastics alone
were able to read, there was no access to the ears

* The minstrels are not imfrequendy called mimi. Or*
dericus Vitalis, describing a contemporary character, 8ays»
<* Erat enim in militia promptus, in daudo nimis prodigus,
gaudens ludis et luxibnt, 'mimis\ equis^ et canibus^ aliisqu^
h^jtt9m»di vanikU^nu. p. 598.

of a military nobility, wifhoat the ititerfention of
a body of men who travelled in every direction^ and
who were everywhere welcomed as the promoters
of mirth and conviviality.

The next step was easy. Being oompelled to a
frequent exercise of dieir taleiit in extemporaneoua
compositions, the minstrels were probably, like the
improviscticri of. Italy, at least equal, if not 8i;^enorA
lo mcuB learned writers, in the merely roe^hahicai
pa^s of poistry ; they were al^ better judges of the
public taste. By the progress c£ translation they
became the d^>ositanes of nearly all the khowledgie
of die age, which was oomtnitted to then: manory :
tt was natural, therefore, that they should form a
variety of new combinations from the numeroui
inaterials in their possession^ and it will be shown
hereafter, that many of our most jx^ular romances
were jtnost probably brought by their efforts to the
state in whidi we now see them. Hiis was the
inofit ^lendid sera of their history, and seems tb
have G(»nprehended the latter part of the twelfth '
and peHiaps the whole of the thirteenth century^
After that time, from the general progress of in-
struction, the number of readers began to increase j
and the metrical romances were insensibly sup-
planted by romances in proj^ whose monotony
neither requ'ured nor could d^ve much assistance

fix)in the art of declamation. The visits of the
minstrels had been only periodical^ and generally
confined to the great festivals of the year 5 but the
resources^ such as they were^ of the ponderous
prose-legend were always accessible. Thus begdn
this decline of a body, of men^ whose complete de-
gradation seems to have been the subsequent result
of their own vices. During, the period of their
success they had most impudently abused the cre-
dulity pf the public j bfit it is a whimsical £ict^ that
the same fsibiQ* which were discredited whilo in
verse^ were flgabij on their transfiision into prose,
received without suspicion. It should seem that
&lsehood is generally safe from detection, when
conceal^ under a sufficient doak of dulness. ^

SECTION 11.

First Romances merely Metrical Histories. —
Origin of Romantic Fiction ascribed by
Bishop Percy to the Northern Nations — by
Mr. Warton to the Arabians — by others
attributed to the Celtic Tribes of Armoricay
Wales, fSc. — Attempt to reconcile these
Opinions. — Probability that the first French
Romances were written in England. — Au-
ihorities in Support of this Supposition.

X HE opinions delivered in the preceding section
would perhaps require for their confirmation a re-
gular analysis of the state of French literature
during the latter half of the twelfth century ; but as
this has been accurately made by La Ravaillere^
and the Abb6 de la Ruef ^ it will be sufficient in
this place to state^ that nearly all the romances of
that period which still exists comprehending the
various works of Wace, Benoit dc St. More, Alex-

* RevoL de la Langue Frangoise, &c. prefixed to an edi-
tion of the Chansons du Roi de Navarre,
t S^ Archaeologiai voL ziL pp. 50 and 297.

aodre de Paris^ %id others cited by Fau<:het> profesf
tg be chronicles or true histories^ and are known to.
have been translated or imitated from the Latin.
Thus, for instance, Wace*s Brut was a version of
CJeofFrey of Monmouth; le Roman d* Alexandre, of
the Vita Alexandri by Gautier de I'lsle ; Benoit*8
Trojan "War was imitated from Dictys Cretensii
and others ; ai\d the romances respecting Charle-
magne are copied, at least in part, from the Latin
Chronicle of the imaginary Turpin.

The mode of translation adopted by these early
romancers was indeed rather licentious, as they
were satisfied with giving the substance of the story
as intelligibly as they could, reserving to tliemselve«
the liberty of contracting what they thought too
difRise, of omitting what they considered as unne-
cessary, and of enlarging such passages as appeared
most important. But they were generally attentive
to the style of their original, and seldom lost an
opportunity of enriching their work by an exact
imitation of the most gaudy and splendid descrip-^
tions which they found in their wayj so that it
would ofien be easy to trace them, even in their
compilations, by a comparison of the style of the
Latin authors whom they consulted. For instancci
M. de la Rue, speaking of Benoit, says, " The
author often presents us with certain turns and

fcnag^s which are truly poetical. Of this an idea
may be formed by his description of springs at the*
beginnuig of which Eollo quitted England for
Neustria :

Quant li ivers £d trepasser,
Vint li duls tens, e li ester 5
Venta V aure sueve et quoie,
Chanta li merles et la treie^
Bois reverdirent e prael,
E gent floiirent li ramel j
Parut la rose buen olanz>
E altre flors de maint semblanz*.'*

Now Dudo of St. Quentin, in relating the same
event, prefaces his account by a description very,
nearly similar. His words are : " Cum autem prims
aestatis tempore, rutilantium molliter florum an*]-;
deret copia, purpureisque blattis lactea et odorifera
alberent lilia, memor semper visionis monentis ad
Franciam proficisci, [Rollo] classibus velis datisj^
navem conscendit |.*'

It may perhaps be proper to observe in this place,
that among the poems attributed to Wace by the
Abb6 de la Rue is one (le Chevalier au Lion) which
Mr. Ritson pronounces to be the original of Yvain

* Arckaeol. vol. xii. p. 315.

f Script. Norm. ap. Duchesne, p. 73.

and Gawain. If this be true*, as it ab6undi witb
an unusual number of marvellous adventuresi
though its actors be personages who were formerly
supposed to belong to real history, it may perhaps
be considered as belonging to an intermediate class
between the earliest, which may he called the histo**
rical romances, and the purely fabulous romances
composed by the minstrels in the thirteenth century*

Having thus &r attempted to trace the progress
of romance-literature in general, we may now pro«
Mod to inquire more particularly into that class of
compositions which has furnished to the Italians a
new and splendid species of epic poetry, and which
afforded, even in the ruder hands of cvar Norman
aooestors, many ingenious attempts at something
like an egic &ble.

Various theories have been proposed for the pur-*
pole of explaining the origin of romantic fiction^
which has been successively ascribed to the Scan^
dinavians, to the Arabians, and to the Armoricans;
iomo authors have supposed it to be of Pro-

* This romance is supposad by Fauchet to have been
written by Chre^en de Troyes, by whom it was very pro-
bably madb enlarged. The same poet is said to have com-
posed the Bangreal, the ChevaHcr i I'Ep^ (thottgh this is
probably a mistake)) La Charette,^ He flourished about

iiaa

Ten5al, and others or Norman invention. Bishop.
Percy, to whose elegant taste we are indebted for
the '* Reliques of ancient English Poetry," the
most agreeable selection, perhaps, which exists in
any language, has prefixed to his third volume a
short but masterly dissertation, in which he assigns
to the Scalds the honour of havmg produced the
earliest specimens in this mode of composition. He
observes that these poets, the historians of the
north, as the Bards were of Gaul and Britain, con-i
tinned for a time the faithful depositaries of their
domestic annals ; but that at a subsequent period,
when history was consigned to plain prose, they
gradually attempted to ^' set off their recitals by
such marvellous fictions as were calculated to cap^*
tivate gross and ignorant minds. Thus began
stories of adventures with giants, and dragons, and
witches, and enchanters, and all the monstrous ex*
travagances of wild imagination, unguidedby judg*
Hient and uncorrected by art." He contends that
the vital spirit of chivalry, its enthusiastic valour,
its love of adventure, and its extravagant courtesy,
are to be found in the Scaldic songs ; that these
characteristic qualities existed in the manners of the
northern nations long before the establishment of
knighthood as a regular order 5 that the superstitious,
opinions of these people, respecting fairies and other

)>retenidtard beings^ were extremely anialogous to
the later fictions of romance ; that the migration of
a certain number of Scalds into France, as atten«
dantson RoUo's army, is at- least extremely pro*
bable ; and that, since the first mention of the
stories of chivalry occurs in the song of a Norman
minstfel at the battle of Hastings, tins filiation of
romance is equally consonant to history and to pro-
bability.

The only rational objection, perhaps, which can
be adduced against this system is, that it is too ex-
clusive. The History of Charlemagne, it is true,
appears to have been very early in favour with tlie
Normans, because the song of Rollo certainly, and
that of St. William very possibly, were anterior to
the conquest 5 and it is also likely that these and
other fr^ments of traditional poetry may have
contributed the principal materials of those longer
works which, at a much later period, formed
the regular romances of Renaud de Montauban,
Fierabras, Otuel, Ferragus, and the other heroes of
Charlemagne. But this does not account for tlie
much more numerous and popular fictions con-
cerning Arthur and his knights, which occupy not
only so many of the romances, but also of the lays
and fabliaux, of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries^

«nd are evidently derived> as the learned editoi* ^if
candidly acknowledges^ from a diiferent source>
Besides, though the manners of chivalry, as exhi<^
bited in the Hollands and Oliviers, are oomnx>n to
^be Lauocelots and Tristrams, nothing can be more
opposite than the morals of the hennnes *, and the
frailties of an Yseult or a Guenever sffotd A la«
mentable contrast to the severe chastity c£ A
northern beauty. But surely, in surveying a system
of fictions in vtrhich love and war are the chief ag^its,
it is indpossibie to abstract our attention altogether
from the delineations g£ female character*

We must confess, however, that Bishop Percy
has ^rly traced one class of romantic fictions to the
traditional songs of the Norman minstrels* These
ficmgs, as it is supposed, are now lost ; but it is not
impossible that some of them may yet be detected
among the very miscellaneous contents of our early
manuscripts. Le Grand has prefixed to the fiibliau
of " Les trois Chevaliers et la Chemise,** a fragment
which breathes the genuine spirit of the Grothic
odes; and which, whether it be an original ot
translated from some northern saga, evinces that
the Normans continued to preserve, during at least
two centuries, a fondness for the peculiar poetry of
their ancestors* The fragment here alluded to hat

kie&n trianslated by Mr. Way under the tide of '^ The
Centle Bachelor.**

The second hypothesis has been adopted by Mr.
Wartoo^who> not contented with referring to the
Arabians the many changes in European manoen
winch took place about the time of the crusades^
has attempted^ in a Ic^g and laboured dissertatiopj
to prove that the same people had laid the founda*
tioQs of these changes at a much earlier period^ by
their conquest oi Spain in the eighth century. He
supposes that their opinions found an entry intd
France throu^ the ports of Toulon and Marseilles^
whence they travelled (probably by land) into It^y.
In the sanXe manner they might get to Britany,
diough after a long journey^ and^ being received
mith. peculiar kiiidneiss in that province, would find
an easy pass^e to Wales.

It is mtnecessary to examine much at length
the merits of a theory, of which the substance has
been ably refuted by Bishop P^rcy in the later
^tio^s of his essay. Yet, although Mr. Warton
has carried to an extravagant length the supposed
influence of Arabian invention, and though h& is
pft^n i:nisle4 by &aciful analogies, we must not
infer, with a modem critic *, that his opinions are

* See Mr. Ritson*s Dissertation on Romance and Min-
strelsy, passim.* •

totally unfounded. If Gerbert (afterwards Pop^
Sylvester II.) introduced the Arabic numerals intd
France^ at least a century before the crusades^ and,
having by his wonderful skill ui mechanics, ac-
quired in Spain, composed a clock, was therefore
4^hsidered as a magician ; if judicial astrology, a
science of Arabian invention, was about the same
time generally disseminated through Europe ; if the
practice of medicine, to which we have so many al<*
lusions in our early romances, was exclusively taught
in the Saracen schools, — it cannot be absurd to sup^
pose that the opinions and prejudices of mankind
were considerably modified by these sciences ; that
they may have had some influence on literature as
well as on manners ; and that the innovations in both
were anterior to tlie crusades. The first of these
fanatical expeditions was undertaken, not agaiiist the
Arabian califs, but against the Turcoman usurpers
of their authority ; and so long as the descendants
of Mahomet retained their poWer, the commercial
as well as the devotional intercourse between £u-*
Tope and the Saracen dominions was easy and
uninterrupted. Such an intercourse has usually
some effect on the manners of men. Perhaps; tod,
it would be no disparagement to, the learned pro*
fessors of medicine, who were principally Jews, to
conjecture that tliey might have employed somtf

btervals of'seve?dvs^d^iii«cquinngy'>a^ migfatl
occasioiially iootikc khe distress df their pati^ts byf
reciting/' Arabian tale^^abiusem^ni; Acoltec^imi:
dfsuch t?des, Txrfe khcw; cotapileid^ by/ Pettus *A^
fonsiis; a converted Jew^, i -was" published \a : Latins
nnfler the title of/' Clerfeali? Disdplina;"" «2frly iis
the twelfth t^ntuiy^ and translated; perhaps abouf
tBecloiseof the samc'cenhiry, under tiie'tkleoF^^Ld
Castoiement d'un Pfere it son Fils 5* ■ and it i& Bjr'no
means unprbba6le that many more fabliau£:f ^ittay
have been borrowed ^ora the sarne nationi ' ■ .z'- ■*
. The third iiypothesis> which supposes" Britany*
to be the native- country qf romantic fiction,' ha^
been, with some mo3rfications, adopted by Mr.'
Leydeu in {lis very able Introduction to the <* Gbm-
plaint of Scotland 5*' and has the advantage /)f befng
ftee from the bbjections wbfch have been Vn&dfe-i^
tfe prececUng- -theories.^ Sirpitoty <if langUa^

• See Appendix, No. I.
' t Th«f' words wrtw%fahii}ni\ afind tin, iire so ofi^ lisifed
fadifferenay bj^ the old Ftetfch writers, that ft' is diffibuft i^
% down any poiiriire rule for dig'criMikiatirig b^tweeri
Ihem. But 1- believe that • th^ Wbrd rowiiri paiticfularly api
*pK«t to such ^rlcs- jfeVere shpJKJsid to bNe itrictlyhistoi
rical. Such - are ^'hte romiaiiees of Arthu r, CKaViema^'e,
•Alexander, TWe-lTrc^an War, Ac: ftej^afeKifx w^^en^^
VaHy stbries supposed to hJvebeen inVfetid for t)ieptirp6»
of fflustTattiii^ ioteer^jibral » bf ' Veid atielfddtfes dajpible ' of
VOL. I. n

ptates the similaf origiaof the Annoricans^ and of
theaatives of thb iakuad^ auk! Ibe British liist&*
nans, itadk as they are, aflSrm that a targe c^Aotsf of
fogitired from Saxon tyranny >ft(ick. r^uge m Bri*
iaay, and cartiied with thetti sticfh of their archives
as had escaped the fhry of their conqti^rors. The
Kortnai^ poets theraselres frequently profess eo
halve derived their stories from a Breton ori^nal ;
and thofr positive testimony seems sufficient to prove
that the memory of Arthur and his knights was
preserved in Armorica Ho less than in Wades and
Cornwall. Withrespect to the tales of Charlemagne
and his imaginary peers, unless we suppose them to
have been imported by the Normans fronv Scandl*
navia> we must refer them to Britany ;' because
the Bretons were the first people of France with
whom' the Normans had any friendly intercourse,
their province having been attached as a sort of fief

^eing so applied. The lai, according to Le Grand* chief-
ly differed from the fabliaux, in being interspersed with
musical interludes ; but I suspect that they were generally
translations from the British. The word is said to be de-
rived from leudtu ; but laoi seems to be the general name
of a class of Irish metrical compositions, as ** Laoi zia Seilge**
and others, quoted by Mr. Walker (Hiat. Mem. of Irish
Bards), and it may be doubted whether the word was not
formerly common to the Welsh and Armorican dialects.

to Normandj at the first settlement of that duchy
under Hollo. It is not improbable, as I have al*
veadj mentioned, that a mutual exchange of tradi*
tions may have introduced Ogier and other Danbh
heroes to the court of Charlemagne; and perhaps
a similar commerce between the bards of Wale9
and Britany may have given to Arthur his Sir
Launcelot and other French worthies. The suppo*
sition that some traditional anecdotes concerning
these two princes of romance were already current
among the Normans, would explain the fiunlity with
which the very suspicious clu'onicles of Geoffrey
andTurpin were, received, and the numerous am*
plifications by which they were, after their transla*
tion into French, almost in:miediately embellislied.
The reader will perceive that the preceding sy-
stems are by no means incompatible, and that there
is no absurdity in supposing that the scenes and
characters of our romantic histories were very ge*
nerally, though not exclusively, derived from the
Bretons, or from the Welsh of this island ; tiiat
much of the colouring, and perhaps some particular
adventures, may be of Scandinavian origin ^ and
tiiat occasional episodes, together with part of -the
luachinexy, may have been borrowed from the
Arabians* In fact^ there is reason to believe that

rmn'

^i^tid8,'in their siii^ey of Gotlifc Fit^ratureV a<? vt^elr
fi^ of Grolhfc' afchitectur€'> lijkve too lia^til^ had re-'
course to* a singled hypbthe^si' fbr. the purpose -of
iBxpiainitig the pl*6babl6 origin cif ftJiiths and pro-
portions whicb appeared uiius\ial, and of oiliamenti
twhicH >xri?re th<Aight t6i aris6 froni a wild ^nd capri'*
ci6u& fancy :iid 'In' both tasds it Will perhaps be
found thaf invehticai is often nothing more than
]EicGidentalia.<;sciciatioD; and that What h£^ be^i dttri-^^
buted to originality of design, ^as only the result of
an awkwai^d attemjpt to combine incongruous nia-
4erials. TIaer first writers of rbmanoe' Were copyists
and translators ;: the Trouveurs, tlteir SUccessors> ail
the name' literally; implies, were simply ^wcfer^j and
used all that they ibund> Without caring whence it
was gleaned, or:mucii troubling themselves about
the twuial- restraints of chronology or gelographyj
That theory, thefefor^, whiclir is the most compre-^
hensive^ smd which ensbraces all: the avenues of in-^
formation, to which tlie writers* of the twelfth cen^
tury ean beismpposed to haveliad access, has, sofar;,
•tslie greatest appearance'of probability. '
I , ?B\*t before We adopt this or any otlier hypothesis^

4t will be proper to^ satisfy ourselves respecting thfe
•cGjLintiy -which produced: the first romances 3 beiv
'^aUs<^ the {uaterials employed ill theii construction

■• -4

^e Jike^y, to "h3Y6 fep^dedriv^ly muchr r>n<'th^
feeli^gii- an^, pr0Ja<;ilip^s; fof.; the perspasi whp-.iJSjB4
\heaii, ].,..[■ : '. .>.v i.. : > .1 ^: : .- • v:t»
•It^is certaii^ly.n^tijr^:,to:assvn3^, io. Uhj fit]Bt^'U>r»
^Unqe; th^t •wUateY§rv»is ^ Fi-enqh' ^ ma.f^ ^ave. .l>^^i|
^vrkten in France j )9Ut such an .assuir^ptit^n WMli
respect, to tl^e period wh|ch |xas l)ith9rto!eng.t^^
pi]^ at^^ntipn^ whea the $sksn&, language \^^^ spokei\
at ^e courts of Paris and-LpndoQ^i A^ouldrbe; yer)?
probjeniatical wi thg^t tlie^ support pf .^ofp© direct
^videncQ. : \ye:know;tI^at Alexandre. jf^iB^nay, ?1
J^onpan, wrote .at Paris : but that.f^enpity.whq
prides hunselfon ]:>eing. a Fr^ nchi^ian^ wro^e: ia
flugland ; we know alsQ> fipip the coufes^pii of tli^
poets th^eniselyes, that prp$t >yas^ at least .as.niapl^
as fame^ the object of their pursuit ; and it [s rear.
enable to conclude., thnt writers flocked iq^ greatest
punabers to the court where they w^re mQ^^ in rcK
quest, and were likely to b^ tppst Ubei^ly reyfarde^y
fJo)jf. it is evident that th^ Dukes c^ N^orm^dy^
Jvhen possessed of the crowp of Edglapd^ r.were in-^
Spnip^Tablypipre wealthy, tlynigb Wt'm 4he same
propprtipnjnOre: powerfiil/. tbsUvtfae qojijteojppr^
K-ings of FrajM^e 5 a»*<l U owiy. b^^re§.nmed.thatvthf[
prpwd of candidates foj* thjeh: patrpuage,Ti(raii:Ooiwiw
Ijuently,: m\i^:more. i^nacrpij^i..- Qvfr iJeniy.-tl^e

Second possessed, in right of his father, Malne^
Anjou, and Touraine j in right of his wife Eleanor,
divorced by Louis le Jeune, the countries of Poictou
and Guienne ; in right of his mother Matilda,
Normandy and England 5 and jiis power in the
latter^ the most valuable part of his dominions^ was
jparaimoont and uncontrolled^ while Louis was sur-
tcnmded by powerful and rival vassals. We are!
therefore justified in suspecting that the courts of
our Norman sovereigns, rather than those of the
kings of France, produced the birth of romance
literature ; . and this suspicion is confirmed by the
testimony of three French writers, whose authority
is the more conclusive because they have formed
their opinion firom separate and independent pre^
mises.

The first of these is M . de la Ravaillere. In his
Essay on the Revolutions of the French Language^ a
work of considerable learnings supported by origi-
nal authorities, whose words he almost constantly
quotes, he distinctly asserts that the pretended
patronage of the French princes anterior to Philippe
Augiate had no visible effect on their domestic
literature J that while so n^y poets were enter-
tained'at the courts of the Anglo-Norman princes>
no one can be traced to that of Louis le Jeune;
2

fabjette chosen ^^i^^WWseiand hit contempofarici,
yi^t/tt no^ l^ik^ Aaimatefiit the Feeoch^ hvi, that
*" ibi esteem ki v^nidiliie kings of Engkuxl heM
theFrench language was l^dy to be sooncoamuu*
ideated to #ie Court of Smnoe*."^ • / j

The'secettid authoi4ty* fe^M^le Cdmtede TVesaan^
A vmter ptthaps of llo^ deep research; but whose
good taste Is t:oiidusive>on points of iotemal evi^
dence. In lus pce&ce to the prose^cotnaBce of
^ La ¥teir des IBactailles" (one of those jeiatiiig to
Charlemagne) he says, *^ The style and chacacter
of liiese nonaances lead m to think that tiy^ were
composed -at the^coi^t'^ the EfUgUsh kings cls>>
scended from 'William the Ckmqueior. We find,
in tfiose x£ tiie round taftle, a inark,ed affectation of
dwelling on ^every^h'mg w^icb oan qontribute tothe
gl(»7of the ^hrbne aaad court ^^f.4£ngland> whole
ptmces^^ and kni^it^ al wa^i» play the d&ef and tnioflt
Mlltant paf t Us ^(he^pietie. Indeed, we oann^^ ba-
fadd without some iseiltnA^dilfes of indi^^iadoa^ Ibe
greatest of manldiid degraded iar h^w the tauijc
^idifieoccu^ ki^eaihUloi^. 'Chatlemagiae*s

• Mais restixnc^jue les Rois d*Angletg:re, maltres de la
Nqnnandie, firent de ndtre langue, diit bientOt passer i la
Cour de 1?ranc6. Vol 1 p. 1^5^. ' - '

V»'!R«a

• * -

; -VTiT

■ r

'• '-n

, ;n .1/

SECTION IIT^

He^earches of the Normans eonoeming Britiah
Histwy.-^^Materials to which they had mh
tess^.'^^QildeLSi'-^'NenmuB. — British TpqH^
tions rejected by fVilliam t^ Maimeib^itry^
hut adopted ly others, — Summary of the
British Chronicle by Geoffrey of Mon^
mouth.

X^ ROM the relative wealth and extent of England
and Normandy, it could not fail to result that the
native country of the conquerors must become,
after a certain time, a province to that of tlie con-
quered. Thus the residence of William and of his
successors in England, which was at first necessary
for the security of their power, was gradually fixed
there by habit and inclination j their followers ac-
quired an attachment to the island which contained
their property 3 and the learned began, about the
reign of Stephen, to feel interested about the history
and antiquities of a country which they henceforth
considered as their own.

The story of the conquest of Britain by the
Saxons, as told by themselves, is so marvellous.

that it could be received with implicit etedit otdf
by persons very strongly prejudiced in their favour i
hat we are very sure that the cufrent of N(»inaa
prgudioes had an opposite direction. It may there-*
iofte be presumed that^ if they generally adopted the
narrative <^ Bede, and contented themselves with
supplying £rom Ssaoa materials die interval which
had elapsed since lus death, it was because they
found it impossible to extort, from the British
writers Gildas and Nennius; a consistent and pro*
hable history.

Gildas, whotp^ Mr. Gibbon has very happily
termed the British Jeremiah, is reported to have
been one of the many sons of Caw, a prince or
chiefhdn among the Slrath-duyd Britons, and to
have distinguished himself during hU youth by
many acts of valour in the wars of his countrymen
with the Northumbrian Saxons. After the &tal
defeat of Cattraeth, he fled into South Wales, where
be ^>ent his old age in acts of devotion, and opened
a school at Bangor, where he perhaps wrote his his-
tory. He died, at an advanced age, in or about
570 i so that his birth must be placed very early in
the sixth century : he therefore had the means of
compiling, had he thought fit, a narrative of the
most interesting scenes in our early annals, of which
be was an eye-witness. But his book o£ ** Lamen-

tatianfi: QV^r * tile . I)e3triieti(Hi 'p£ BritatA" is Irttte
piiore th^na vfhining elegy, and his " £pistie-'-a(
infule^t abd frantic satire on the miseries s^pd viq^^
of his countrypien. His style is sq. turgid aixi
Jbyperbolical that it is alwsiys phscure^ and soi]ki0^
^ip,es uDintelligibie 3 and his J^tin prc^ehds ^ho.
^rpfbeiAg translated or clo^y imitated from th,^.
metaphors qf sQiw l^arbarous poetry.; Perteps, in-*
^eed^ this resemblance may^ not be qui|e i&ncifuli
Mr. Williams, an intelligent W^lsh an tiqua^ry, has
conjectured that Gildas the historian is no otiier
than the poet Aneurin ruvler*an j^ssurned ecclesi-
asticaVappellation. The same exploits are ascribed
^p both;, the same parentage, and thjB same periQ4
.to their lives : . but the strongest foundation fpr die
hjpotiiesis is^ that whereas all Uie Welsh genealp?
gies agree in placing Gildas and Aneurin separately
among tiie sons of Caw,^ no one is found to com-
prehend them both. It would be spme cpnsolation
jto the reader of Gildas, if ^le were perniitte^ to eng^-*
brace tins opinion, as he ipiglit then find, in the
animated poetry of the bajTci, some inde?nnifica7
tion fpr the.esLaggerated expr^essions and apparently
distorted facts by ^ which he is disgusted when
jthey::^ow from the j)en of a . sober and rcyeren^
Jiisto^an.
^ I«fennias,. tlie MSS. of whose work often bear

the nam^ of /Gitdas,' appcjai-s to Bate vi^tt^ abo'iif
th^nflddle of tlie ninth century.' ^Thbttglirtiea-f*!/
a compiler 5 thdugh'i6xtt*emely-credUl<yus^5 •though"'
feady to' adopt every British tradition! he might'
ttil), frofipi the antiquity of his materials, be valu-'
ible to an inquisitive • histdrian; if ^w6 possessed i
j)ferffect and ptire copy of his work. ^ It is^aid tha£
tech a copy ^xiats^nthcf Vatican library^ and that ^
ttanscript from it is intended for ptabJlcation by thtf
ReV. William Giflin of NoTwidh : but thefe is eveiy
re^asou to believe that those to which the Normans
hadacce^; as* well as the copies since edited by
(rale and Bertraiii/ were extremely inCorrect> and
disfigured by ntimerous interpolations. * » -

Besides these regular histories;- it appears that
Welsh traditions were offered in great abunda^cd
to the Norman antiquaries; betause' William of
Malmesbtiry,* after qtiotSng the '* Gesta Britonuni,"
by which he seems tojneati the narrative of 'Neii*»'
hius, ^s of gOod^'authcQ-ity/ tak^s notice of other
relations, which he treats with utt^r contempt, a«

visionary irifles imd lyivg dreamt*. But the'inar«i

• . . . .■ . , . ' . . ' . •■ . '

■ , ■ ■ ' •■ •■ • • ""- • • ■•.-■• ^ ... .^

* >. k it repnatckable that> in thf Terf Mine ^i9ence,.J)e
idopts from Nennius the story of Arthur*s having; slain, in
one batde, 900 Saxons with his own hand. So capricious
Was the 'incredulity of pur early critics! The story here
quoted is in the sixty-thifid cnapter of KeniitUs:*

Tellous is sure to find admirers in' an age of credu-
lity ) and what had offended the good sense of this
writer was eagerly accepted by less scrupulous and
discerning critics. Walter Calenius, arch-deacon
of Oxford, collected with great assiduity, during
his travels in Armorica, a considerable mass of
British materials, which he put into the hands of
€^eoffi:ey of Monmouth, with a request that hd
would translate and publish them ^ and Geoffrey,
readily entering into the views and adopting the
prejudices of his pad'on, executed his task by com-
posing a Chronicle of Britain in Latin prose, and a
Life of the Caledonian Merlin in Latin hexameters.
He also appears to h^ve meditated the translation of
a third work on the migration of the British clergy
to Armorica ; which perhaps he did not live, or had
not leisure, to complete*.

These performances are so closely connected
with the history of Romance, that it is scarcely pos-
sible to lulderstand the subject without some
knowledge of their contents. But one of tliem is
a MS. which many would be unable to decypher j
and though the other, having been printed and
translated, is more accessible, it is not quite fair to

* He says, lib. viii. cap. 2. ** Sed bacc alias referam, cum
librum de exulatione eorum transtukro."

vftct from the reader the perusal of a chronicle^
the length of which b b^ no means compensated bf
Its veracity. Perhaps, therefore, itmaj be more*
ctonvenient to give, in this place, a very short and ,
general abstract of both compositions.

The Chronicle is divided into nine books, of

-which the first, containing nearly a third of .the

whole work, extends from the birth of Bmtus to

the introduction of Christianity into this island.

Brutus, the son of Silvius, and grandson of Asca^

mus, being exiled from Italy for having accidentally

ilain his father, takes rdiuge in Greece, where he

£nds tlie posterity of Helenus reduced to a state of

ilavery. He puts himself at their head ; repeatedly .

defeats the armies of Pandrasus, king of the coun«>

try 5 and ultimately extorts from him the hand of

his only daughter Ignoge, together with the bridal

present of a large navy, with which he embarks in

quest of adventures. • Afrer various exploits among

the Greek islands, and in Mauritania, he passes the

Fillars of Hercules; arrives at the mouth of the

Loire ; finds in AquHaine a- second body of Trojan

exiles mider the command of Corimeus, a great

giant-killer, who joins his fortunes. Fkance, at

that time, was governed by twelve peers*, and had

* Tunc eraitt dttodecuA regM an GalH^qoorura regin&M^
totari^oparipoteitaieJKigfbstor* .Xi^iJ«.c..8«^. j

4»

jf/reguWr «)^m'*(tf •|ra«i^ff-^tf»^** 5 'f<^»n^*^g^
Trhich- CoritWBtsd "«a« assai^lted' hj tke Duke of
g^uitaihe. . Bfatus and Cbririaetis defeat his ^foites ^
lajL t^aste his icotiRtryj carty- off an imnaifeafw?
booty ; put to sea, and arrive in Albion, then un-i
Inhabited' except f by a i few- 'giants^ who pnndtpaliy
£^qaonted.tbe i^omheiti ptdmbntoiy oF tlie isIacKi:
<Corinsiii, takibg-deii^ht in &e^chace of such crea'<
j&tresv mafces^dwice of- this pft)rnontory for His r6si-^
4eDde;:the direst pf^th^ i»ldn4%eitig Plotted to' hii
l^mpahion. BrafushisWj^fhf'Ae first time, recoP
flocts thkt he is TDi^iittd'|0 ihife b^tifhMgndge, and
becQinet the' father of^ three- sdils^. Locrine, Alba-
'Ziidif and . Camber; ' who, divWitig the kingdbni
«fter;hisdeath,giv^ their hainfes to the three gre&t
'divisions of the^land) Loegria, Albania, and Cam-<
fotia-i Thel.very uninteresting^.' htstoiy of his fe-*
huldus .'descendants is a litt^ enlivened by soniii
;amusrng episodes $ such a* the Idves of Locrihe and
'£streldis (cap. 13i)»5 itheitafeuaf K:kig Leir and his
4hree daughtars'(c. :}6J)i th«t of Ferrex 5and Pdrret
r(c. lCr.):> afad llle:Tomaftti€i atdvonfeii^s of Brenntis;
the faciQUS, conqueror tn^-^Rome, -whoni Geoffie^
Jias. : very Zprovidentlj^ oliiitteid'.a^ *' Brftish \i^ti
^c^ 17^ \8^l§:)rMi(t was^ to- sorf'-cf sDartvalhJ

cipispermissOy.€eca«ph>sttnhcre^(k!b<fc«^''-- . ' . .*•'• ^-'^

Mulmntias^ the king who first c(»n^ed the Mii2«
mutian code, which was aflerw€ards translaiid vkU
Latin by Gildai, and again into Saxon ly AJfir^i.
Being dissatisfied with the share of his fiither^s
dcnmnions allotted to him^ he flies to Elfbgios, king
of Norway 5 gains him to his interests 5 Inrmgs awjrjr
his daughter and a large army 5 meets at sea the
king of the Daci, a former admirer of the young
lady; fiiils in his attempt on Britsiin^ which was
M^ioHy under the power bf his brother Belinus ; and^
having lost both his dominions smd his mistress^
files to Gauiy and thence to Seginus king of the
Allobroges. Here^ being yhir m Im per9on, and
cmnpeieniUf skUUd in hawking and hunting, he gains
the ailfectiOQS of the king and of his only daughter 3
marries h^^ succeeds to the crown | forms a
league with the pnnces of Gaul 5 invades Britain,
$xA is on the point of attacking his brother, when
thdr dififerences are settled by tiie intervention
of their mother. Hie two princes, umting their
forces, march from victory to victory till tb^
e^t tlie oon^oest at Rome. Even the invasion
of Britain by Julius Caesar becomes, in this work, a
lale of chivi^. Nennius, brother of Cassibe"*
lanus, has a single combat with the Roman gene«
lal 3 is wounded 1 bat ultimatdy wrests from him
sword, called Orocea Mors because the wounds

VOL, I. E * '

it inflicted'were incurable J obtains a victory by h§
means; and empires. A second intasion attempted
by Caesar is unsuccessful 5 his ships bevog disabled
by shdrp stakes driven into the I'hames : but the
submission of Britain to Rome is at length effected
by negotiation in the reign of Claudian, whose
daughter Gennissa is married to Arviragus^ king of
the Britonsi . /

I'he second book extends to the reign of Vorti-
gern. Lucius^ son of Coilhis> wishing to embrace
Christianity^ obtains from Pope Eleutherios two
holy doctors^ Faganus and DunianuSj who baptize
Ihe king and convert the whole nation. The
4wenty*eight flamens^ and three arch-flamens^ by an
easy substitution^ are changed for a(s many bishops
and arclibishopsj the latter being established at
York^ London^ and Chester. Lucius dies in 156 5
aft^r which the Britons^ growing impatient of their
subjection to Rome, refiise the usual tribute, and
Severus is sent over to reduce them. He conquers
the South, and builds a wall across the island to
secure his conquest; but Fulgenius, general of the
northern tribes, though repulsed at first, obtains
new succours firom Scgthia, and gives him battlo
near York, where both leaders are slain. Basianus,
Carassius, Asclepiodotus, and Coel, are successively
elected by tlie Britons ; the last submits to Con*
2

stantine the Roman general^ ,and dies^ leaving an
only daughter, the celebrated Helena, whom Con-
stantine marries^ and becomes father to the em^
peror of the same name. Some years after this,
Octavius, monarch of Britain, having also an only
daughter, is advised by Caradoc, duke of Cornwall,
to bestow her, together with the crown, on Maxi-
mianus, a Roman senator, whose ambition was well
known. Caradoc sends to Rome his son Mauri«
tills, '' a man of great prohity and boldness, and
ready to support his opinion against all contradict
tion by arms in single combat'* Maximianus, rea*
dily entering into his views, lands in Britain with a
small army levied in Gaul, and ultimately, by tlie
assbtance of Caradoc, obtains quiet possession of
the lady and the crown, notwithstanding the oppo-
sition of a formidable competitor, Conan Meriadoc,
nephew to the king. Being well established in the
sovereignty, he draws to hb standard the whole
military force of the island ; embarks with them
for Armorica j subdues that country, the crown of
which he bestows upon his former rival, Conan
Meriadoc, and marches forward to wrest the em-
pire from Gratian and Valerian. In the mean time
the new king of Armorica, being dissatisfied with
the native ladies of his dominions, writes to Diono-
tus, duke of Cornwall, requesting that he would

E 2

scud Urn or«f Ms fs^ cUmghfer l/rsok for hi^
own \ri^j «nd ft C6fiftp6te»t i^uuie of virgios for kf»
oiBcefs i^ samp Dioft^^Ks necepts the commid^
ihMi i ^dUectii t l^OOi^ iiobl6 tit^ins^ with Ursula ill
^b&k ht^, kM G^,OQ(^ (ildbeUin tasoAema, tnd em-^
Udcd U^em wi^i ps&p» frrftcHtefion. But the fleet
cemtaiolng this valuabte cdf^stgrnttent of beauty
Md chastity id tiiii»rtttnately dtsfjeraed by a storm.
Many of the intj^ are shipwrecked, and mati/
mcnre fidl intd ^ hands of O^tmmi^, king of the
Huns, and Melga, king of the Picts, two piratical
I>rinoes in the interest of Qtatiati. Nor is this all.
The two kmgs ^aU fbr Albany ; learn the defence^
less state of Btitain ; march thtough the country,
*' slagifig thi itrttHMtal vulgar,*^ by whom alone it
was guarded ; and, notwithstanding a few temporary
succours sent from Rome, continue their ravages,
till Gue^llttus, bishop of London, obtains from
Audroen, king of Armorica, the third in succession
from Conan Metiadoc, an army under the com^^
mand of his sen Gon^tantine> who is elected king of
Britain, repels the invaders, and dies after a victo^
rious reign, leaving three sons, Gonstans, Aurelius
Ambrosius, and Uther Pendragon. What follows
&i this book nearly resembles the romance of
Merlin, of >;Kdiich an abstract will be given here*
tAer.

The third book> wbtch » ^oci^d by the JlUSe of
Vortigera, differs ^noili the romance^ piiftly by ret
itting more rifcumsiaottiilly the ftmous Int^rviQW
between Vortigern and RoTreoa (hem called
Rouixe}^ at which " Saian Jm/nd^cn cnProM/fe uU9
the Ungs heart,'' and partly "by the itiaertiOQ of an
anscdote xespeetibg Sldol;, duke of Gloucerterj
who, at the treacheixma entertainmenl given by
Hcng^st, escaped the &te of the 460 nobles slaugh*
tared dioie, fay seizing a stake, with -which he killed
oo less dian seventy of the armed Saxons. It also
meatioaa the arrival of St Geitnan and Bidiop
Liq>u8, for the purpose of extirpating the Pelagian
heresy ; the deposition of Vortigera ; and the victo*
riom reign of hi3 son Vbrtiiii^, who, after expelling
^ Saxons, was poisoiwd by Bowena; and the re*
deetion of Vortigem.

* Tke finirCh book is a more episode, being a trans-
lation of the prophecies of Merlin.

The fifth book cont^ns the reign of Aurelius
i^brosiu^. This prince, accompanied by his bro*
ther Uther, arrives in Britain at the head of ] 0,000
ehoaen men, defeats Vortigern, purses him from
place to place, and tdtimately bums him in his
tower. He then turns his arms against the Saxons,
who retire towards Scotland; but, being forced
to risk a decisive battle, ^e completely defeated.

Eidol, duke of G}<fCicester« meeting Hengtst during
the engagement^ a dreadful single combat ensues ;
land at length Eldol^ seizing his adversary by the
nasal* of his helmet, carries him off as a pnaoner.
On the following day he is beheaded 3 and his rela-
tions Octa and Cosa, having implored the mercy of
Aurelius, are permitted to settle in a desert terri-
tory contiguous to Scotland. Aurelius, after re*
pairing the ruined churches and monasteries in his
dominions, and endowing new ones, is desirous to
honour the British chiefs slaughtered by Hengist,
by a suitable monument : he takes the advice of
Merlin, who is sent to Ireland to bring over the
great stones called the Gtant*s Dance, then erected
on the hill of Kildare, but formerly brought from
Africa, and endowed with various medical and ma-
gical properties! . Merlin, though strenuously op-
posed by Gillomanus king of Irieland, brings aMray

* The nasal q{ 9 helmet seems to have preceded the
vison It was an iron plate which descended over the nose,
and thereby gave some protection to the face of the com-
batant.

f If, as Llwd and some other learned men have conjec-
tured, a Gaelic colony preceded the Cyinri in the possession
of Britain, it is not impossible that Stonehenge, and other
similar n\onun\ents„ may have been erected by these early
settlers, and that the foolish story hi the text may have been
grafted on some mutilated tradition of that event.

^e stonesj after defeating the Irish Brmy, and erects
them on Salisbury plain. Afler this^ Pascentius,
son of Vortigem, invades the northern parts of
Britain ; is defeated 3 flies to Gjfillomanus^ king of
Ireland) and returning with him makes a descent at
St. David's in Wales^ and prepares to attack Uther
Pendragon^ who^ Aurelius being then confined by
sickness^ commanded the British army. : A certain
Saxon, by name £opa, undertakes to poison the
valiant Aurelius ; assumes the dress of a monk,
having shaved his head and beard for that purpose $
takes with him a box of medicines f proceeds to
Windiester, and is admitted to the king as a phy-
sician. Aurelius, having taken the deadly potion,
covers himself with the bed-clothes, falls asleep,
and expires. The death of this great man is
marked by the appearance of a wonulerful comet,
from which issued two long and brilliant rays,
together with a fiery form much resembling a
dragon.

The sixth book contains the reign of Uther.
This prince, who was then with .the arn;iy, .sees, the
comet with great surprise, and pointing it out to
Merlin, who was with him, learns that it portends
his brother's death, and foretels his own accession,
the future glory of his son Artliur, and the birth of
a daughter whose children should hereafter reign in

Britain. He tliea, at the earnest request of Mer*>
Iin> attacks Gillomanas and Pascentius ; obtains a
complete victory ; and, letaming to Winchester,
causes Aorelias to be boned with great pomp
within the area of Stonebenge. Hb first act^ after
his election to the crown, is to cause two golden
dcagons to be made^ in imitation of that which he
had seen in the comet*s tail ; one of which he so^
lemnly offers np in the church at Winchester> and
takes the other as the rojal standard; whence he
was ftflerwards called Fen*drs^on, or Dragon*s-
head. Meanwhile, Octa and CosardDel; invade
the northern provinces ; advance as far as York,
and besiege it. Vther arrives with succours, but
is repulsed, and driven as far as Mount Dwven, At
night he summons a council of war on the moun*
tain. Gprlois, duke of Cornwall, advises a night
attack I which succeeds, and Octa and Cosa are
taken. After this victory Uther goes round ** aU
the ScoHsk nations, and reclaims that rebelUous
pe»pU from their feroaty** He then r^irs
to London, where he summons aQ his nobles to
attend the festival of bis solemn coronation. Gor*
lois arrives soneng the rest, with his wife Igema,
vixjse beauty attracted all eyt&y and particularly
those of the king. ** T6 her aixme he tncessanthf
directed thi chmceU dainties ; and seat cups ^g^ld

if the hmis ^ hit mMfamikar masemgers ; he
MoM on her. JreqmuHy, and aceasted her wkh
umrds of pleasantry " Bat this pleasantry dif«
l^eising Godois, he left the banquet afaniptly, and
refined to return. Uther, f^tad of a cafose of qoar*
nl, vowed to laj* iraste the dbminiong of hia rival,
8Dd soon aocomplished ha threats by homing many
towns in' Coniwall^ and besieging Grorlcns in his
dtadal of Divolioc, and Igema in that of Tintagel.
fiot tfaia fi>rtrass, bailton a precipice^ surroonded
6Q three sides bj the sea, and inaccessible except
by a narrow and exposed path, was impregnable by
spen Ibrce; and the impatient monarch, by the
advice of his confident, Ulfin de Ricaradoc, is
forced to solicit the aid of Merlin; who kindly
transforms the king into the likeness of Gorlois,
wliik Ulfin and himself personate two Cornish
knights, Jordan and Bricel. The unsuspecting
Igema, thus betrayed, becomes the mother of Ar*
thnr $ Gorlois is killed in a sally ; and Uther,
retnming to Untagel, marries the vridow. At
length, after a long reign, Uther &lls a vicdm^ to
Saxon treachery. Octa and Cosa, escaping from
confinement, bad fled to Germany ; levied an army;
and, making a descent in Albany, notonly ravaged
that ceunlry, but, having defeated the British forces
commanded by Loth of Londonesia (Lothian), to

whom Uther bad married his daughter Afuie*^ ad*
Tanced from conquest to conquest till they arrived
at St. Alban*Sy which was also surrendered to them.
The old king, though confined to his bed by sick«
ness, was so indignant at thenews^ that, havii^
levied a vast amy, he orders himself to be con«
yeyed in a litter at their head, attacks the enemy,
and, iifter twt) days* fighting, gains a victory, in
which Octa and Cosa are slain. But the Saxons,
during their possession of the town, had poisoned a
celebrated spring, the waters of which being swal-
lowed by Uther occasioned his immediate death*
He was buried at Stone-henge near his brother
Aurelius.

The seventh book, which is occupied by the
rdgn of Arthur, being the most important of the
whole work, it may be worth while to ^vea sepa*
rate summary of its chapters.
• 1. Artliur, though only fifteen years of age, is
elected as king at a general meeting of th^ nobles,
and crowned by the prelate Dubriciufi with the con-
sent of the whole clergy. He immediately takes

* The chronicles of Britany state that Uther had two
daughters, one of which, Anne, was married to Budic king-
of Britany, and another, whose name is not mentioned, to
Loth of Londonesia. This is also assumed by Geoffrey
himself in other parts of his work.

the field against the Saxons, of whom a fi'esh arm^.
under the command of Colgrinus, combined with
numeroii^ auxiliaries of: Scots and Picts, had ad*-
vanced from the north and gained possession of
York. He attacks and defeats them on tbie banka
of the river Hu^as, near that city, which he then
besieges, after sending a detachment under Cador>
duke of Cornwall, i agabst Baldulphj brother of
Colgrin,' who was hastening, at the bead of a se«
cond army, to the relief of the place. The Britons
are agajn victorious 3 and Baldulph, anxipus to com-
municate to his brother the i^proach of a fresh
body of' Germans under Cheldric, determtines^ to
gain admittance into the city in disguise. He
shaves his hair and beard; assumes the dress and the
harp of a minstrel ; amuses the besiegers by playing
various tunes on his lyre 5 gradually approaches the
walls } and, making a private signal, is drawn up by
a rope. During thi^ time Cheldric arrives with six
hundred ships | and Arthur^ by the advice of his
council, raises the siege ; retires to London ; and
sends an embassy to Armorica, beseeching the
assistance of Hoel, who shortly after arrives with
his army at Southampton.

2. The two kings march to Lincoln, then be*
fieged hy the Saxons; kill six thousand of the

i^iemy ^ harass them in their retreat 3 and pursot
them quite to the Caledonian forest, whecer lliej
again attempt a short resistance: but Ardxor
t>lockade8 them in the wood) cats off their 'pcovi<»
sioot } and compels them to absRidon alF their
booty^ and to embark for Germany, after giving
hostages thaK they will not attempt to return. Bnt
the Saxons, regwdless of their treaty, proceed rooad
theuroasts of the island, and, suddenly making a
descent at Totfiess, ravage the country. Arthur
hastens to the sootbward by forced marches, and at
length meets the enemy in Somersetshire. Bodi
•ides prepare for a decisive enga^ment. '' Arthut
himself, dressed in a bieast-pkte worthy of so g^reat
a king, places on his head a golden helmet engraved
with the semblance of a dragon* Over his shoul-
ders he throws his shield called Prhven, on which
a picture of holy Mary, mother of God, oonstandy
readied her to his memory. Grirt With Calihum, t
most excellent sword, and fabricated in the isle of
Avalon, he graces his right hand with the laoct
flamed Ron. This was a long and broad spear,
well contrived for slaughter.** After a long and
severe conflict, Arthur, calling on the name of A»
Virgin, rushes into the midst of the enemies, and
destroj's four hundred and seventy of them with

«1

thefermidable Calibum. Colgrin^ Baldulph> and
iotne thousands of inferior rank^ are killed ; Chel-»
dfiei«treats.

3. Arthur^ in inarching against the Saxons, had
been forced to leave Hoel, who was sick, in the
city of Aldnd (probably Alcluyd, i. e. Dunb^urton),
of which the Hcts and Scots imtnediately formed
ihe siege. He therefore hastened back with all
^peed after his victory at Mount Badon, leaving
Cador to pursue die fugitives. Cad(»r occupies the
Saxon ^ps, and, thus cutting off their retreat by
lea, txiQstantly harasses them till they are driven in
great distress to the isle of llianet, with the loss of
their general, Cheldrkj and then hastens back to
JKMn Arthur, who in the mean time had defeated
chePicts and Scots in three several engagements,
ind had driven them Into MureVth (Murray) and
the islands of Loch Lomond. CH* these, as the au«
thor telh us, there are sixty, eadi of which contains
in it a single rock of great height,, having: on its
Bummit an eagle's nest ; and these eagles have an
annual meeting, where, by their prophetic screams,
they make known the great events which are to take
place in the ensuing year. Arthur blockades the
vnemy by means of a fleet of boats ; destroys many
of them l^ famine } and reduces the rest to uncon«
4itional submission, af\er having totally dispersed a

large fleet from Irelan4 brought by Gillomanus toj
their assistance. Hoel now surveys the lake^ which
had sixty rivets running into it^ and only one efflux |
and this circumstance^ added to its sixty islands^
and rocks^ and eagles* nests^ and eagles' pro^
phecies^ appears to him very marvellous: but
having further examined the province^ he disco*
vered a still greater wonder, viz. a pool exactly
square, of twenty feet in length and breadth, having
m its four angles four different sorts offish, which
never intermixed. Having reported these discove-
ries to Arthur, he further tells him that there is a
lake in 'Wales near the Sevem,^ called Linliguna,
into which when the sea flows at high water, it is
absorbed and forms a whirlpool 3 but during the
ebb, tlie same Wjaters are returned with violence^
casting dieir spray to a great distance | and if this
Spray should fall 01^ any number of perscois having
their faces turned towards the lake, they would Im
instantly drawn into it j but if their backs be turned
towards it, the aspersion is not mischievous. Ar«
thur now g9os to spend his Christmas at York,
where he is occupied in the restoration of churches^
in distributing justice, and in rewarding his adhe^
rents. To Loth, who had married his sister Anne,
he gives the, sovereignty of Lothian j[ he appoints
Auguselus^ brother of Loth^ king of the Scots 3 and

bestows on the third brother, Urien, the province
of Murray* Oti this occasion, also, Arthar mar-
ned Guennhara, a lady of Roman extraction, edu-*
cated at the court of Cador> duke of CornwalL
Next summer he sails to Ireland 3 defeats Gillpma-
nus 3 subdues the country 3 passes on to Iceland^
which he also conquers 3 and receives the submls*
lion of Doldonius king of Gelandia, and Gimnasius
king of the Orcades. He then returns to Britain^
and spends twelve years in peace.

'* During this interval Arthur increases his esta-
blishment^ by inviting 6:0m distant parts, and fixing
in his &mi]y, all who were particularly distin-
guished by their valour 3 and such was the courtesy
practised in his household, that it excited the emu^
lation of all Europe* Hence the noblest fpreigners
were dissatisfied with themselves^ till they had ac-
quired the art of putting on their armour, and of
going through the martial exercise adopted by Ar-<>
thur*8 knights*." Thus supported, he entertains
projects of more extensive ambition. He equips a
fleet j^ invades Norway 3 subdues the country, and
bestows it on Loth, who had some pretensions to
the crown. In this campaign the celebrated Ga-

* Unde nobilissimus quisque incitatus, vilipendebat se^
aid sese, sive in induendo, sive in arma ferendo, ad modom
xnilitum Aithuri haberet. Fo. 74. A.

64:

waln> son of Lotli^ being only twelve years (Ad, wst
invested with arms by his uncle Arthur. The king
then proceeds to attack Fk^lo^ at that time lieuta-
nant of Gaul^ under the emperor Leo ; and Fkdlo,
after a severe defeat^ being forced to retire to Paris^
proposes to him the decision of the war by a sin^a
combat. Arthur accepts the challenge ; they le*
pair^ after exchanging hostages^ to '^ an island wkh«
out the city^** and a desperate conflict enstiies^ ia
which Arthur is much wounded^ but ultimately
cleaves his adversary's skull with a blow of Cali-
bum*. After this victory he sends Hoel^ widione
half of his army^ to subdue Aquitaine; which being
accomplished^ and the other province!^ reduced by
Arthur^ he spends nine years in Gaul ; settles die
affairs of the kingdom ; holds a plenar court at
Paris 5 bestows on Bedwer> his butler^ the province
6fNenstria; onCaius^ hissewer^ that(^Ai^ou^
and at l^igth returns to England.

4. In this chapter are described the cerenkmiei
of Arthur's coronation at Winchester ; at v^ich
Were present a long list of tributary kings^ bbA

* In th« Amiales de Bretaigne of Makre AlaiiQ Boiichard
(Paris 1531), we find that the Virgin londly threw her own
tnrdut ttiaatk over Arthur's shield, and thereby confounded
the intellect of FloUo. Bouchard quotes, as his anthoritf
for this miracle^ the ** Memoriale Hiitoriimai.*'
1

among the rest, /' the twelve peers or petty kings
of Gaul; under the. conduct of Guerin of Char-
train."

• 5» An embassy arrives from Rome ta demand the
renewal of the tribute formerly paid by Britain*
Arthur resists the demand ; levies an army of
183,200 cavalry, and an almost innumerable in«
&ntry, which are ordered to assemble at the port
of Barfleur for the purpose of invading the. empire.
On the other hand, Lucius Tiberius collects his
forces, consisting of Italians, Greeks, Ailticans, and
Asiatics, under their respective kings, whose names
are enumerated. Arthur embarks at Southampton,
leaving the government of Britain to his queen
Gahumara and his nephew Modred -, and, while at
sea, dreams a dream about a battle between a
dn^n and a bear. Being arrived at the place of
rendezvous, he hears that a wicked giant had carr
ried off the niece of Hoel, and retreated with her
.to aTock called St. Michael*s. Arthur sets off,
wth Bedwer and Kay, to explore the giant's re-
treat. ' They perceive two fires on opposite points
of the rock j and being ignorant which is the abode
of the monster, Bedwer takes a boat 5 approaches
the smaller fire -, ascends the hlU j and is disturbed
by the screan^is of a woman.. Having drawn his
sword, and reached the place, ||p sees an aged and

VOL. I. P

Tenerable female vr^esfing orer a fresh grave. She
was the young lady's nuise and governess i her fair
pupil had died of fright at the first embrace of iht
giaat^ who, thus disappointed of h» pi«7« had with-
out loss a£ time ravished the old woman. Bedwer
assures her that she shall be pieservad. frona a se-
cond violation, and returns to Arthur*. They leave
their horses to their squires, mount the other hei^t;
and find the giant sittii^ over a fire to roast the
liemaias of somehc^s which .he had partly eatea
raw, so dMit his mouth was still besmeared wkh
bkKxL At the sight of Arthur he snatches i:^ his
club, and Arthur draws his sword. After a long
battle, of which Kay and Bedwer are spectators,
^e giant is killed ; and Arthur dedarea that he had
tievef met with such a formidable oj^ionent since
his encounter with " the giant Riihon" * on Mount
Araxnanus. This Rithon, it seems, hadnaade.hinn-
self a furred cloak with the beards of kings, and
had sent an embassy to demand that o£ Mmm,
pcomising that he would assign to tt the placo^if
honour m his doak, as a testimony of his vakmr;

* This was Rhita-Gawr, a celebnited tyranxucide, who
lived before the historical cera of the Britons^ but whose me-
mory IS preserved in the Bardic triads, &c. — ^In the draanatic
tides he is said to hav» fought for the beard of Afthvir; bat
itt WW then vanqut^P^ Owea't Camb. BiogntpbywX

"^ ^

but Arthur^ of course/ had vanqolshed the tniper**
^oent giant^ and carried off thegannent. He now
orders Bedwer to cut off the head^ and they return
to the campj which is 61led with admiration at the
exploit of their gei^nd. Hoel causes a church to
be built over the hify of his niece^ and the moun^*
lain where she was buried is still called '^ Helea*a
Tomb/' * +

6. Arthur lands with his army in France^ follows
the course of the rii% Aube^ and finds the enemy
&ear Autun. The author relates many skirmishes,
in which the BriU>ns are generally successful^ and
whi<^ terminate in a decisive battle^ where Arthur^
Hoel, and Gawain^ after performing prodigies o(
valour, obtain a difficult and bloody victory. Bed-
wer, Kay, ^tmth many officers of disdnction, are
killed I and the body of the first is sent to Bayeux,
ai|l the second to Cadonium (Cadouin ?)» for inter«
9aent. Arthur then proceeds i subdues Dauphiny
and Savoy ; and is preparing to march to Ronoe,
wi)^ his further progress is prevented by learning
the treason of Modred, - who had seized his queen
and crown during his absence.

7. The traitor Modiedbad agreed with Cheldric,
king of the Saxons, to abaQdon to them all the
(Astem coast of Britain north of the Humber, toge-
ther wwrKent, as held by Heqgjut and Horsa, on

fi8

eondition of being permitted to occupy the remain^
ing dominions of his uncle. He had also united
himself with the ftcts and Scots 5 and, having tlius
a vast army at his command, marched to oppose
Arthur, and gave him battle, jpimediateiy on his
landing at Sandwich. Arthur!^ however, is victo-
rious, though witli the loss of Auguselus king of
Scotland (who was succeeded by Ywain, son of
Urien, his nephew); and of the celebrated Gawmn.
Modrcd retreats towards Windhester. The queen,
who was then at York, flies to Chester; and takes
the veil in the conventual church of St. Julius the
'Martyr. A second battle takes place near Win-
chester ; and Modred, being again defeated, retires
into Cornwall, and pitches his camp in a very
strong position on the banks of the ri^er Camblan.
Arthur resolves to force his camp, and a desperate ^^
battle takes place, which is fatal to nearly all the
chiefs on both sides. Modred is slain -, and Arthur
himself, being mcrrtally wounded, is carried off to
the isle of Avalon, leaving the crown to his relation
Constantine, son of Cadbr,- duke of Cornwall, in
the year of our Lord 542.

The eighth book relates the vininteresting reigns
of Constantine, Conan, Vortiporius, Malgo, . and
Catericus. The last of these princes, atucked on
one side by the Saxons, and on the other^y Grod*

69 ^

mundus, an jifrican king, who had previously con-
quered Ireland^ is at length forced to abandon all the
eastern and middle provinces of Britain^ and to re-
treat into the mountains of Cornwall^ Wales^ • and
Cumberland. Even the arrival of St. Austin is by no
means favourable to the wretched Britons 3 for the
apostle of the Saxons^ having an unfortunate differ-
ence with the monks'of Banmr^lostno opportunity of
exasperating liis converts agailist the British clergy.
The ninth book> which concludes the Chronicle^
is chiefly occupied by a romantic and i^ther amusing
account of a period which in the Saxon annals is
particularly disgusting, from the savage conduct of
Penda, king of Mercia. , Cadvan, elected nominal
sovereign of Britain for the purpose of making head
against Ethelbert king of Kent^ prepares for hosti-
lities ; but first tries the effect of negotiation^ by
means of which the rival monarchs suddenly be-
come ititimate friends. Their mutual affection is
so greats that the queen of Ethelbert^ being divorced
by her husband^ repairs. to Cadvan^ as the most
powerfrd intercessor whom she could find. Though
bis zeal for her service proves inefiectual^ she con-
tinues at his courts and is there delivered of a son^
who is christened Edwin, about the same time that
Cadvan becomes ther fatlier of another, the cele«
brated Cadwallo. These children are nursed toge-

^ 10

thfcr at the court of Cddvdn 5 are sent t6gelb^ td
Armorica to be fostered under King^ Salomon 5 re-
turn together to Britain j and become^ abo«it dfrd
same time^ the sovereigns of their respective na«.
tions. After two years^ Edwin proposed to hit
friend that both should be solemnly crowned at the
same place, which was on tiie frontiers of North*
umberland^ but withiii^e Britkh line. Cadwallo
oMisents^ and tliey md^t on the banks of the river
Dnglas ; but while the solemnities are preparing,
the Welsh prince happens to fall asleep^ with bis
head on the lap e( his n^hew Bnanus^ and is un*
expectedly awakened by a shower of tears which
fall fiUm the eyes of his supporter. Cadwalk>>
tnudi surprised^ inquires the cause of his grief,
which Brianus (whom the Welsh call Bmint-Hyr)
attributes to fear of Saxon perfidy 3 and the young t
king, suddenly adopting this suspicion, puts an end
to the ceremony. Edwin very naturally resents this
abrupt resolution, and the two friends become im*
placable enemies. Cadwallo^ after the loss of a deci-
sive battle, flies to Ireland, from whence he makes
many efforts to return and dispute the possession of
Britain with his rival ; but is always disappointed by
means of a Spanish astrologer at Edwin's court, who
discovers every intended attwhpt, and reveals it to
bis Tiv9d» The fugitive now resolves to take refug|»

•i.

m Anhonca : bat in sailing tbidier ]»s fleet is di^
spersed bj a storm, and he k shipwnecked on the
teolate iBkad of Gamareia (Goems^ ?), 'where he
Mis «iok, and refiiset to taste fi)od>— ^nt at length
entertains a longing desins for v^iisoo. Brianus
trices ins how and arrows^ but, ifinding no wild ani-
mals on die island, <citts a piece of flesh from his
own du^ ^bsesaesit; and gives it to his undej who;
act knowdng die frauds is nfanFetinnsty ^eased wilSi
the taste, Bnd!recoueis ixis health. Hhe^ now ar-
rive ^in ArBKiiica, and Tequest the assistance of ^a*^
lomoB ; but, as it isisecesaary in the flvst instance to
get rid of (die Spanish coigmrer^ iBnanus undertdoes
this comiJSission. He embarks for Britain disguised
as a Ijeggar^ finds the court of ^Edwin at York 5
discovers his own sister employed in the servile
xifiice of fetching water for the ^ueen, in a rich
ife§ael which he recognises as one of the spoils of a
British city 3 learns from her that >FeIlitus is at that
m o me n t distributing alms to a number of mendi-^
cants 3 mixes with the crowd 3 stabs Pfellitus j and
escapes undiscovered. lEIe then proceeds alone to
£xeter 3 gets possession of that city 3 proclaims the
speed j return of Cadwa^p;3 and maintains his jxisjt
against a large arniy of Mercians commanded by
Paeanda (Penda). At this moment Cadwallo ar-
rives with an army from Armorica3 hastens tQ

Exeter ; relieves the town j forces the Mercian king
to swear allegiance to him ; and marches against
£d^^> who is slain in the decisive battle of Hat-
field. — The rest of the story, and the reign of Cad-
wallader, are not worth abridging.

Such is the substance of this strange Chronicle,
from which it certainly is not easy to extract much
useful and authentic history* j bat to which we owe
the fable of Shakspere*s Lear, that of SackviUe^s
Ferrex and Porrex, the most beautiful episodes in
Drayton's Polyolbion, and a great variety of allu-
sions in the poems of Milton and others, as well as
the first outline of our earliest and best romances.

* Giraldus Cambrensis adduces a very comical proof of
Geofirey's want of Veracity. ** There was, it seems, in the
neighbourhood of Chester, a man of the name of Melerius,
who, in consequence of having had an intrigue with a young
lady on the eve of Palm-Sunday, was, ever after, more or
less tormented by devils. Though perfectly illiterate, he
could distinguish the true from the false passages in books ;
because the former drove away, while the latter attracted
round him, crowds of evil spirits. When GeoflPrey*s Chro-
nicle was put into his lap, << non solum corpori ipsius toti, sed
etiam libro superposito, longe solito crebrius et taediosins ixt-
sedenmt.** It. Cam. lib. I.e. ^«

SECTION IV."^

^ummairy of Geoffrey's ^^ Vita MerlinL" —
Inquiry into the Materials from which it is

' likely that his Chronicle was originally com"
posed. — Conjecture respecting the fabulous
Arthur,

1 HE Life of the Caledonian Merlin consists of
1528 lines 5 yet it gives no account of the birth or
parentage of the prophet^ who is introduced at the
eve of an important battle^ fought between Gwen-
dolau^ who governed the kingdom of Scotland, and
Peredur, a prince of the Strathcluyd Britons, aided
by Roderick, king of Cumberland. Merlin, whose
tKon-sister Ganieda (Gwenddydd) was married to
Roderick, and who is himself qualified as a prince
of Demetia (DyfJyd, perhaps here the Teviot), takes
part with Peredur, and brings with him his three
brothers j all of whom are unfortunately slain in the
action. Merlin causes them to be honoarably in-
terred in the neighbouring cemetery of Varia
Capella. (Falkirk) 5 passes three nights and three
days in lamentation over their graves 5 refuses all
food 3 becomes frantic^ from grief and abstinence 3

and, rushing into the Caledoniau Forest, renounces
all human society. A minstrel, whom his sister had
dispatched in seardi of htax, acctdentally learns the
usual place of his abode, where he strikes his harp,
and ungs a strain describing die sorrows of Gweor
dolen (the wife of Merlin) and of Gwend<fydd his
sister, comparing them to the Sidoaian Dido, to
PhylliB bewailing the loss g£ Demofdioon, and to
Briseis lamenting her separation from Achilles.
This classical lay produces its effect. Merlin en*
courses him to proceed 5 is gratified by his com-
pliance ; recovers firom his madness 5 and requests to
be conducted to the court of Ehydderch« where he
is received with the utmost Joy : but the crowd of
a court annoys and importunes him to such a de^
gree that he again becomes frantic. Bhydderch ia
vain attempts to purchase his stay by the offers of
' the richest presents, '' of robes, hawks, hounds^
g<^, jewels, and plaie embossed by WUUmd*"
Meriin is indifiepent to all these things ^ even music
loses its effect ; and his friends, unable to detain
^m otherwise, have recourse to coercion* He now

♦ Afferrique jubet vestes, volucresque, canesque,
Quadrupedesque citos, aurum, gemmasque mrcantes^
Pocula ^cuB soilpsit <3fwdandus ia uthe Sigeni,

The Wieland here mentioned is notio^ in lilr. Scott\
^ Minstr^bjt)! tbe ScOtishBoi*der,

becomes silent and melancholy^ and the court of
Rhydderch is^ in consequence^ rather duller than
Qsiidl : bat at length a whinmcal incident procured
the liberty of the prophet^ and produces some
amusement among the courtiers.

The queen, passing one day through the hall^ is
kindly accosted by the king, who embraces her,
makes her sit by him, and, observing a leaf en-
tanked in her hair, takes it off with an air of dal-
liance, and throws it on the ground. Merlin, who
had surve3red this scene in silence, siKidenly bursts
into a loud fit of laughter, but refuses to communi-
tate the cause of his mirth, unless he should previa
oody receive the moast solemn promise of being set
mt liberty. The king having sworn to c<Knply, he
declares that the queen was just then returned from
a meeting with her lover in an arbour strewed with
ieaves*, one of which had accidentally adhered to

* An adventure nearly similar is attributed to Gwenhvey-
iuy Arthur's queen. ** Melwas, a m3rthological character,
arrayed himself in leaves, to lie in wait for Gwenhwyfar and
her attendants, who, according to custom, were out on May
morning to gather birch for garlands to welcome the sum-
mer ; and by means of that disguise he carried her away."
Owen's Camb. Biography. This rape is also recorded
in the L^eef St. Giklas, where Melwas is called a king of
j^oncnetihire. BibL Reg, MSS, 13. B, vii*

the back of her head ; aiid that the kind complai*
sance with which his majesty had removed this
unsuspected evidence of her frailty, had appeared to
him extremely comical. Rhydderch, far from
joining in the laugh, turns from the queen in dis-
gust, and bitterly laments her infidelity 3 but the
artful Gwenddydd, not at all disconcerted, imme-
diately contrives a stratagem to disprove the pro-
phetic skill of the madman. Leading in her hand
one of her youngest pages, she approaches Merlin,
and asks him by what death tliat boy will die. The
prophet replies, that he will perish by falling from a
rock. She then orders the boy to retire 5 to change
his dress -, to cut off his hajr ; and to return after
being completely disguised. He is again led up to
Merlin, who pronounces that this boy will find his
death on the branches of a tree. The queen now
triumphs, and laughs at her husband's credulity ;
but, pursuing the test, she directs the boy to depart
again, and to return in the dress of a female 3 when,
the same question being repeated. Merlin answers
that this person will be drowned in a river. These
■^f apparently discordant prophecies having frilly con-
vinced Rhydderch of his wife's chastity, she is so
far from bearing malice against her brother, that
she joins her solicitations to those of Gwendolen
and of the king to procure his further stay at court.

But Merlin being inflexible, she at length desists
from her importunity, and only begs to know
whether, since he is so enamoured of the Caledo-
nian Forest^ with its nuts and its apple-trees^ it
be his wish that the l&ir Gwendolen should ac-
company him, or lead the life of a widow, or take ^
a new husband.

He replies, that his wife is perfectly at liberty to
make another choice, and that, in this case, he will
not fail to make her a liberal marriage-present 3 but
warns her at the same time that Gwendolen must
car^ully keep his rival from his sight, because their
meeting would inevitably prove fatal to the object
of her second choice.

Merlin now departs, leaving the court not a little
astonished at his strange prophecy respecting the
page 5 which was, however, after a few years, ex-
actly accomplished. For, being on a hunting-party,
bis- horse threw him over a precipice into a river ;
but in «ucb a manner that his foot accidentally
hong in the.bra|^ of a tree, his ^head being under
water.

Merlin, in the mean time, remains in the forest Jk
with no other society tlian that of the wild beasts^
wbcmi, like another Orpheus, he attracts round
him ; and happening one evening to survey the sky^
observes that the planet Venus has a forked appear-

«i

Bftce, wliich, it seems, denotes the separation of
love, and therefore piroves to him that his wifii^
Gwendolen i% preparing to take another bosb^nd*
After resolving to bear this slight nciisfortuiie with
philosophy, he prepares to collect the proinis<^
portion 5 draws together a herd of stags, &II0W
deer, and goats 5 and, riding on a stag, drives his
^inimals to the dwelling of Gwendolen, whom he
invites to accept his marriage-present. The hu9T
band, who from a window beholds what is passing*
is $9 much amused by the uncouth appearance of
his predecessor, that he bursts mto a loud fit o(
laughter ; at which Merliti being displease^, tears
off one of the horns of the stag on wluch he rodC}
throws it at the impertinent scolTer; kllUhimon
the spot, and rides off into the forest«

Being closely pursued by the company who had
^sembled for the bridal ceremony, he attempts to
cross a river j falls from his $tagj swims back to
shore, is secured, and carried as a captive to th^
court of Rhydderch ; where G|||mMi4yd4 gnd her
•' uxorious consort in yain attempt ^procure for hii;^
^ such amusements as may compensate for those of
)iis favourite forest. While confined to the court
he refuses all food, and abandons himself to fnelan*
choly : Rhydderch, therefore, orders that he shool4
baled put into the ci^j and is informed QQ W^ JT&t

tarn that the prophet had been t^^ce observed to
]augh daring his circuit -, once on passing by the
porter of the palace^ who asked for ahns 3 and a se*
cond dme in the market-place^ on seeing a young
man who was puichasing a pair of new shoes. The
good king» as we have seen> always felt an irre^
sisdfale impulse to learn the. cause of Merltn^s
iaoghter ; and on this occasion again consented to
pay the highest price for the gratification of his
curiosity, by dismissing the prophet into the forest.
Merlin now told him that his begging porter had
concealed in the earth beneath his feet a treasure of
considerable value } and that the young man who
had bargained so earnestly for a pair of new shoes,
would not live to wear them, but inunediately cm
qmtting the city would &11 into a river and be
drowned. Both these assertions being verified, he
was left at liberfy to depart : but Gwenddydd
haying represented to him the danger of encoun-
tering the firosts of winter within the forest, he
consentient she shell cause a house to be built for
him 3 at the same time requesting that he may have
a 8e{Hurate edifice for the purpose of an observatory,
widi sixty windows, sixty doors, and as many se-
cretaries to write down his observations. This
being settled, he used to pass his summers in wan-
dering through the forest, and his winters at d^

new habitation, where he frequently received the
visits of his sister.

• At these meetings Merlin uttered a variety of
'prophecies, which, in the poem, extend through
moi'e Ihan 100 lines* ^ at the conclusion of which
he exhorts Gwenddydd to return home for the pur-
pose of attending the king, who is dying 5 and re-
quests that she will send to him Taliessin, who
'was just arrived from Armorica, where he had
been receiving the instructions of the leameii
Gildas.

Rhydderch was already dead j and his widow,
after many lamentations, determines to pass the
remainder of her life in acts of piety. In the mean
time Taliessin had joined Merlin, and a very long
and learned conversation takes place between the
two bards.

Taliessin begins by a lecture on meteorology and
on cosmography. He says, that within the firma-
ment, which incloses all things as the shell incloses
the nut, God has placed the heaven of sffher, the

* It is remarkable that Merlin the Wild is, in this paf«
sage, confounded by his biographer with Merlin Ambrose;
for he is made to say

Hac Vortigerno cecini prolixius olim,
Exponendo duum sibi mystica bella draconumy '
•4f' In ripi stagni quando consedimui haiittL

Aode of the tngeist which tefeodered gknlcnis by
iheson; that belqw &is is the heavea of 4ur^ oirfit-
^dented l^ the mooa^ and hihabited by an ififemir
Mer of migels^ who cany upwards the prafers of
•fliaiikiiid } and that below the meea onr imporer
atmosphere is inhabited by caco-daemens^ our ten*
«t9nt and most dangerous enemies. He then paaseii
t» the sea, of wliich he says, one part flows round
hell, and is of cdoise intensely hot : akiother part,
adjoining to the poles, is intolerably coM; hat
it has a most valuable sand, produced by the infiu*
ence of the planet Venus en the yapour of its
waters. The Arabians attribifte to ^s sea the
generation of diamonds and gems, w^ueh are so
salubrious to the wearer by their ilnedieal virtues,
and wbidi denote their several qpedes of efficacy
by the gradations of colour. The third, or tem«
operate sea, prochices fishes of all sorts, and salts,
asid aiKirds nourishment tb birds, which, as wdl as
fishes, originally sprung fi:^om it Taliessin enu*
merates ttany o# the most curious marine animals,
and then passes t^ the earth, df winch he describes
the iskfnds in die following order $ Britain, Tha-
natoi (Thanet ?), the Orcades, Ytilia (Thule ?)^
Iidahd, the Isle <^ Gades, that of Gorgades, Argire,
Ciysse, Taprobana} and, lastly, the '' Fortunate
fibind, or Island of AppH'* This, which is tM
VOL. I. e

8«

^pagqn pf fertility, is gdvfef iiec[' bj tijiie siBt6i%, rf,
.whorn lji^> f^kif^^; ^lecl Morgmi b' enatnendf
^Ulc^ in n^icjnej ipirtheopa.tieii^.'fpidtnagifc* '^ To
^U i^l^dj," f c(»tinue8 Tali^ssitv '^ we tfansportod^
^ter^fa^^libattle of Gamblan^th^ wounded Aiv
.thur^o^r^jiot being Barintbiisiijto whomtheseas
jfi^d the star^; ^f heaven are well-known.. ' Moigen
prfsceived^ufk nfiost honourably^ ^pjaof^ithe king on a
bfid of gqld in her own ch^mb^r^j; tmcovered lu^
^ounoU ,yitl| ;h|dr noblef haiid^tj exaooined them
Jongj ^d^.fit,ia»f pronouncedr thait he might. Jrcl
recoyer,f;if ^ft for a considei^b}e tinte to ;the effect
<>f>her> ine4iG24 treatHienUr'VVr^; therefore gladljr
fpnu^it^hkn to her care> and returned, home,
havk;»gr a 'BM^t prosperous passage.*' :
. 'I^.nai^ntipn of this inoldei^ leads to a political
jccmyers^tion^ in the course of whieh Merlin gtvea^
in; abojiit: 1^ liti^> a very iieat abridgment of
peoffrey.'s .British Chroniclje, from the reign (^
Const^s tp tfrat of Conan. ' ■'^

At the. close of this dialogue 'they are infi>rme4
^hat a 'wonderful fountain has jus^t made its appear-
ance in the neighbourhoods The two bards pror
qsed together. to the sppt> and ^^rlin, fueling
thirsty^ apd heatedi after his hmg. speech, throws
jximself |^*the gra^r takes a plenti^ft^^raught, jind
washes his' temnles wkh the iitrajteB^ . M th^ iostJ^

liis senses are completely restored to' him 5 he pours
oat an address of thanks to heaven ; and then, un-
able to explain the phaenomenon, asks the opinion
of his friend. Taliessin, recollecting the extraor-
dihaiy properties ascribed to different fountains,
some of which are said to cure sofe eyes, while
<ykhers give or take away memory, or communicate
an oily appearance to the skin, or change the colour
of the sheep who drink them, seems to think it very
natural that a draught of water should afibrd a cure
£»r madness. He then accounts for the unexpected
appearance of the fountsun, by observing that it
might have hitherto flowed under ground ; and
that, its course being impeded by some accident, it
had been compelled to rise to the surface.

The stews of Merlin's recovery being spread
throi:^ the country, his former subjects come to
request that he will resume the reins of govern*
ment ; but he -excuses himself on account of his
•ge and infirmities, pointing out a large oak, of
^hich he had witnessed the growth from an acorn,
|Dd declaring his intention of passing the remainder
of his days in abstinence and prayer^ At this mo-
ment a flock of cranes, flying at a great height over
their heads, first in a long file, and then brewing
into circles so as to form the semblance of certain
letters, attracts the attentibn of the multitude. Mer-

Un is requested to teach them the natural history of
the crane i and to this he adds, in pure generosity^
a gpeneral system of ornithology.. Towards the
close of his lecture he is interrupted hy a.madman>
who howls most lamentably^ and foams at tho
mouth like a boar* Merlin*s attendants instantly
seize. him> with the view of amusing themselves
with his absurd gestures and behaviour : but the
prophet, having attentively surveyed him, recognises
his person, and declares him to be a man of royal
birth, . and one of his earliest and most facvaonib
companions, whose madness had originated in an
accidpnt^ which he then proceeds to relate.

Being on a hunting party in the woods of Ar^i
giistli, they had met with a clear spring shaded by t
reverend oak> .and, af^er satbfying their thirst, had
discovered on the grass a number of delicious ap^
pies, which /they immediately oiFeivd to Merlin |
who, dividing them amongst the company, badacct*
dentally wglected to reserve a part for himself; All
aite with avidity, and at the instant, losing their
senses, began to foam at the mouth, to tear each
other with their teeth, and, finally, like so- many
wolvies, ran howling into the woods. The poison^
it seems, had been prepared for Merlin himself bj^
a jealous female, whom, afber a long cohabitatioo>
he had uhimatdy abandoned; He now reeom^
1

neacb for Ids fneod the trial of tbe same fountain
ivhich had xestoced iiis own senses, and the water
It fbimd to possess all its former efficacy.
' Maddin (for so he was called), Taliessin, Mer<»
M, and G^enddydd who had lately rejoined tbem^
BOW determine to live together, and to dedicate
dieir lives to€rod: Gwenddydd becomes, in her
tnni, inqiired with the gift of prophecy; and a
specimen o£ her new lalent, xaA. at all infork)r in
ebscority to the oracular jargon of her brother^ con-i
•dudes the poem.

Tbe seader is now in possession of such materials
as will enable him to estimate the degree of crediC
due to an opiaioo first promulgated by Polydore
Vii*gii, and, though ably combated at tbe time by
Lelaiid and Price, ^gjam taken up by some modem,
aothors*; viz. that " Gec^&ey invented a very

* Even Mr. Turner, the able and successful champion of
Welsh literature, has adopted this opinion. '* I believe,*^
sap he, " the book of Geoffrey of Monmouth, who lived in
the twelfth century, to be his oum composition^ and to abound
with fable.** Vindication of the Antient British Poems, Sic,
p. 145.— >It is not easy to reconcile the foregoing passage
with the following : <* I believe Geoffrey to state the fact,
when he says he found the history of Arthur in a book
brought from that country (Bretagne). Perhaps, if any of
the lays or legends concerning the Daniel Dremruddi or red
visage, the Alexander of Bretagne, could be found, we might
«ecc the procecype of Aithur/* Ibid. p. L59L

considerable part of the Cbronidei wHlch he pro*
'fessed to translate from a Britisli original^* ;'

Tlie principal arguments' alleged in support, of
thb opinion mighty perhaps^ with equal efficacy, be
directed against it 5 since they all lead to the in*
ference, thiit^ because many of the fables, which in
the Chronicle usurp the place of true history, ard
outrageously absurd and improbable, they were
therefore interpolations of the translator. ' Now it
is evident that Greoffrey was a man of considerable
learning and ingenuity. In the composition, of
which we have just seen the abstract, are number-
less allusions to, and not a few translations fix>m,
the poems of Merlin and Taliessin, which prove
him to have been familiarly conversant with Welsh
antiquities 5 while his language and versification,
though by no means faultless 3 his allusions to the
works of Ovid, and his frequent imitations of
Pliny*, bear witness to his acquirements in Boman

* Much of Geo6Frey*8 natural history, and certainly hit
whole system of ichthyology, is borrowed from this author.
I will quote only one instance in the description of the
Torpedo :

Ast alias clades Torpedo fertur habere ;
Nam, qui tangit earn viventem, protinus illi
Brachia cum pedibus torpent, et caetera membra,
Officioque suo, quasi mortua destituuntur.

Pliny *8 words are : Etiam procul, et e longinquo, v^ si.

literature* There » <:on8iderable • kapptness and
taste in the general contrivance and arrangement of
the poem^ which, though es^entialfy didactic^ and
intended to convey nearly all that the ^tiihc^ can b<^
supposed to have known of science and of histoiy;
is ieidivened by a mixture of amusing anecdote^ ami
leodered dramatic by the combination of incident
and. dialogue. If, therefore^ the author (^isi&ch k
work bad been disposed to invent a British Chro-^
mde^ it seems natural tosu[^>ose thatiie would
have taken some pains to give an air of probabili^
to his deception -, he would not have suppi^e^ed.t^
well-knowh exploits of Theodosius^, for the* pur«^
pose of ascribing^them to an imaginary Arthur > he^
wotdd not have called up^ as the antagonist&bf this-
Arthur^ the supposititious names of a Frollo and a:
Lucius Hyberus -, he would not have sent his fan^'
tastic hero to menace Italy at a time when.th^>

hasti virgive attiDgatuTj quani^ prsvalidos Ujcenos tor-'
pescere, quamlibet ad cursuxa veloces alligari pe4es. Hist.
Nat. Kb. 32, cap. 2. '

• In 368 or 369 Claudiah says , ' . .
• maduerunt Saxone fuso
Orcades ; incaluit Pictonim sanguine Thule;
Scotorum tiimulos flevit.glacialis leme.

• ' Deiv.cbnsIHon'oriiv. Sletscq.

eountxy was filled by the authentii^ dnd f^endid
|wBe of Belisarius.

But Geoffirej has so where shown th^ digbte^
idicltude to establbb the credibilily of the ^veota
b^ related. He only insists that he has ttoiskted
ipE^to Latin the text of a native historian ^ that the
|ilS. which he fqUows is andent* ; that it is Bri^
^$,tbat it was (»ut into his hands by Walter^
archdeacon of Oxford^ who had brought it :&on9
Atmorica} a^that, no former copy having l^bea
koown in this, country, neidier William of Malmes-
buryi nor Henry of Huntingdon^; nor Garadoc of
Llancarvan, can, from theit vtrant of antient BritiA
dopumente, be qualified to write our early history,
Indeibd, so scrupulously does he adhere to this
fiin|{dc afssertion> that, when he is about to relatdi
the stm^^ for empire between Arthur and Mo^
4r^, bethinks it necessaty to state that he has
supplied, from the testimony of Walter, some defi«
ciencies in hift <Niginalf • It is certmnly possible

* dbtulit Oaltferus, &c, quendam Britannici sermoim
Vhrvaoivetustissimum, Procemium, edit* 1517.

f De hoc quidem comule Augusto Gaufridus Monume*
ttam tacebit. Sed ut in Britannicp pracfato sermone itsvemtf
eta Galtero Oxenofbrdensi, in xnultis historiis peritissimo
▼iro audivU, vili licet stylo, breviter tamen propalabit*
tSbf viL cap. 7r

tkt all diese declarationd may be £dse j and that
Qeoi^ey, or Walter^ or both^ may hare been un^
postDrs and lian : but^ before this opinion is as-»
Mmaed, it ought to be shown that their assertion ii
junprdxible $ and that a series of fables, intended to
^ve an exaggerated opinion of British greatness, is
more likely to have been forged in the t)velfth cen->
txacy, than during the ignorance and credulity of
some antecedent period*

The advocates oi this opinion having confined
their arguments to the three stories of Brutus^
Merlio, and Arthur, as being the most important
if not the most absurd fictions in the Chronicle, a
very few words vdll be sufficient for an examinatioa
of the controversy.

Neimius, as we have already seen, is supposed to
have written about the iniddle of the ninth century ;
and he hss given, in chap. 1 and 4 of his Histoiy, an
outline of the fable of Brutus, very nearly in con*
formity to the more circumstantial account related
by Geoffirey. Hn afterwards, in chap. 12, reverts
to the same subject, and traces the genealogy of
Bratus tip to Adam -, which seems to show that the
tradition was, in his time, very popular, and thai his
sketch was made out from two or more difierent
aQthorities. In chap. 40, 41, 42, 43, and 44/ he

giv»sii^ver|r ditmnstfflitial account of iVteiin^^ dif«
fering very littlie irom that of Greoffiref^'witii which
it has been amalgamated^ by the JXMnance writers.
If, therefore, the text of Nennius were genuyie
aild authentic^ the invention of these tales nuist be
tbore antient, by about tiiree centuries, than the
time of Greof&ey ; and even supposing the passages
in question to have been interpolated at some sob's
sequent period, there is not the slightest authority,
for supposing them posterior to the publication of
ihe Chronicle.

* With respect to Arthur, the passage idready
quoted from William of Malmesbury*, aiid a va-
riety of other testimonies, confirm, the assertion
made by Geoffrey in his prologue, that the exploits
of this prince were ** engraved in the memories of
many nations, and the frequent subject of recita-r

• The original text is very curious. After supposing
that many of the victories of Ambrosius were gained ** exi-
xni& bellicosi Arthuri operA,*' he adds, ** Hie est Arthurut
de quo Britomim nugce hodieque delirant; dignus plane quem
non mendaces somniarent fabube, sed veraces predicarent
historiae ; quippe qui labantem patriam diu su^tinuerit ; in-
fractasque civium mentes ad bellum acuerit ; postremoj in
obsidione Badonici montis, fretus imagine Dominican matris
quam armis suis insuerat, nongentos hostium' solus adorsus,
mcredibili csde profiigavit. Script, post Bed. page 9.
3

tion*." Gaimar^ the authorofa Frendi loetrical
history of our Anglo-Saxon kings^ allades.to apre^
Tious work (now lost) on the British story, in
which he professes to have amended, by means of
other MSS. which he names^ the Chronicie of
Geoffirey 3 from whdm^ however, he admits that he
had borrowed a great part of his niaterialsf . Wace>
whose translation of the work has been preserved,
expressly attributes the fabulous appearance of Ar-
thur's history to its extreme popularity, and to the
numerous interpolations introduced into it by vaxi*.
ous reciters {• It seems therefore very strange to
tax Greofirey with having invented a story which he
and all his contemporaries represent as confessedly^

* ** Amultis populis, quasi loscripta mentibus, et jucunde
et mempriter praedicarentur/*
f La Rue's Dissertation. Archaeol. vol. xii. p. 3 1 and 311.
\ £n cette grant paix que je di
• Furent les mcrveilles trouv^es
. Qui d*Artus sent. taut racompt^es. .
Ne tout mensonge, ne tout voir ;
Ne tout faulte, ne tout savpir ;
Tant ont U compteour compt^,
£t Ufableourtant fabl^.
Pour les comptes embeleter.
Que tout ont fait fable sembler.

Wace ap. La Ravaillere^ vol. i. p« 148.

inttefit> afid whidi bad been alceadjr disfigtiiied'bjr
fiequent redtaL

i But Geofirey has further asserted that the Eritisfar
MS. .which he translated was brou^&t by Walter
X firom Annonca; a circumstance surely not at all
improbable, unless . it could be shown that tiie^
3nloQS of France, though of common origin with:
the natives of this country, and speaking a direct
of the same language, had xx> knowledge of our
traditional history. Now we know that at a mudi.
later period, and even down to the time of Chaucer^
the la^ of Bretagne, a species of tales nearly re*'
aembling the Welsh Matini^n*, continued to be*
e^ctremely popular among the Normans readeat:
here ; and that a collection of them, in some of
which Arthur's story is noticed, were translated by
Marie f , a French poetess who lived at tlie court of
our Henry III. We have also, in con&mation of
Geoffrey's assertion, a .contemporary authority
which is cited by Mr. Turner. *^ That Arthur's
fame," says he, " had acquired a gigantic shape in
the twelfth century, is undoubted. Alanus de In->

* A sort of nursery -tales, containing many curious par*
ticulars respecting the Welsh mythology. A translation of
them is preparing by Mr. Owen.

t See Appendi3e> No. IL

iqKs was bom 1109; and he mfbrms us^ that ^
my was heard in Bretagne to demf thai Arthur
was then alive, he would he stoned. He ucys. Who
<ioes not 9p^ik of hint ? He is even more known
in Asia than in Britain^ as our pilgrims returning
fiom the £ast assure us. Both £ast and West talk
of him. Egypt and the Bosphorus are not silent.
Bom^ the mistress of cities^ sings his actions*
Antioch^ Armenia^ Palestine, Celebrate his deeds*.**
We may add to these testimonies, that the internal
evidence of Geoffrey's history bespeaks its Armo«
rican ori^ ; because it differs in many respects
from the Welsh tradidonsf, which probably would
not have happened had it been invented by «
Welshman > because the early victories of Arthur
are plrindpally attributed to Hoel ;;, an Armorican

• Vmdication of the Ant. Brit. Poets, p. 160.
f lUd. See also Turner's Hist, of the An^o-Saxoos,
vpL i. p. 934 et »eq.

\ Geof&ey lias rather ^Deiled this cfrctixnstance in hit
Cbrotucle» but speaks more plainly in his poem :
£t puer Arturus fuerat ; nee, debilitate
^tatlsy poterat tantas compescere turmas—
Mox igitur coUegit Heel ad bclla feroces
t^ovtmiquaque viros ; et multis milKbus ad not '
Venit ; et Artaro sociatus, perculit hostes
Sacfpius aggrediens, et stragem fecit accrbam*
"Hoc socio securus erat, fortisqr.e peromnes
Arturus turmas, &c.

' fcero^ aa4 because the frequent and afifected ed1o<>
'^e» on the Inhabitants cf Poictou, a proyince^higbl]f
interesting to the French Britons^ whose territoiy it
^oins^ but perfectly indifferent to the ' people-of this
country^ have no apparent object^ and could have
answered no purpose in the mouth of our native
historians^.

\ Upon the.whole> there seems to be: no good
reason for supposing that this strange Chronicle
was a sudden fabrication^ or the work of any one
nian*s invention. It rather resembles a superstruc*
ture gradually and progressively taised on the
foundation of the history attributeid to Neneius.
^hat work is no moUe than a'dry epitome, in which
the author is more solicitous to quote his authori*
ties^ than to draw up an interesting or even intel^
ligible narrative j and accordingly its various xopies
contain many interpolations^ apparently intended for
the purpose of elucidating the writer's meaning*
^nd perhaps transcribed from the very sources to
which he refers. Such a work, when translated
into British^ could not fail of inviting further inter-

* M. de la RavaiUere concludes, from these / passages,
-which he cannot otherwise explain, that Wace ^whom he
calls Eustace, and to whom he attributes their insertion)
was certainly a Poictevin. Revolut. de la Xangue Fran^oisc,
p. 148.

pclkiioji} and as Nenniui^had ext>ress]y adihftted
theliyesof saints^ and even antient traditions> as
unexceptionable sources of history, the fullest seope
was allowed for additions to his imperfect sketch;
Tradition could not easily furnish fables, much
more absurd than those of Brutus and Merlin ; and
if the life of St. Germain was sufficient authority
for rhe supertiatural feats of Arthur in the battle of
Badon mount, there could be ho reason for disbe-*
lieving his foreign conquests, which certainly were
iachievable by human means, if they were found ia
the legends of St. David or St. Dubritius.

That the lives of these saints do in fact contain
ah account of Arthur nearly similar to that of
"Grcoflfrey of Monmouth, we learn from Sir John
Price, the contemporary and friend of Leland,
with whom he was associated by Henry VIII. in
the conunission for examining the monastic libra-
fies> and who consequently possessed the best
opportunities for becoming acquainted with antient
British manuscripts. He says that he had seen
knany MSS. of both these Ifves, in British as well
as in Latiu'i^ -, and informs us in another place, that
y in.tbe.book of the life of Sx. Dubritius particular

* Habemus quidem illius divi (i. e. St. David), necnon et
Sancti JDubritii— :yita9« tunvLatina turn vulgar! lingui con*
Kriptas, &c. Hist. Brit. Defensio, edit. Ii73. p. 26.

mention is made of Arthur and of bis eiqploits^
nearfy as they are descMed in die Hiitor^r translated
bf Geofftej } whicb life of Dulmtias we know to
have been amiaally recited da the festival of the
wtaat, bj the religioas of Uandaff, in the cathedral
of that place, l&ng. before the time rf Oet^of^J'
He also quotes^ to the same efiect> a very antient
MS. sent to him by the treasurer of St. David^sf {
and a Chronicle of the nuHiastery of Carmarthen.

# ' . •

* Delude in eodem Ubro ubi vita S. Dubritii recolhur,
luciilenta fit mentio de eodem Arthurb, et de rebus ab eo
gestisy ad eundem ferit modum quo in histoHA, ab GaufffiAi>
eranslaiA wtmofpontia', Quam quidem vitani} Umg9 anU
Gaiijffredi temporof in ecdeiii JUuidaven«i, die divi DiMiltu
memoruB dicato, q\iotaQnis ab iptiu^ eqcleaiic ctUtoribof fa*
petitam fuisse liquet. Ibid. p. 127.

f p. 128. Leo.ijiajor, &c«— In fact, it is rather extraordi*
tuiiy that Geofirey has made so little use of the lives of the
nints ill embellishing his Arthur. The life of St. Oildas
would haTe afibrded him the story of the rape of G«enever
■ by.Melwasldngof Somerset^ure. In the lift oif St. OiiiicUci
(Cot. MS3. Vespasitm A. xiv.) he might have found bgw
Arthur, with his knights Bedwer and Kay, .a9a9te4 thail
monarch in his loves with the princess Gladusa. In the life
of St. Patern he wo\ild have learned how Arthur was twal-
lowed up alive by the earth, in eonseqatoce of his attempt
to seize the holy saint's robe^ but released on exhibitingt
proper ugnsx)f contrition, &ct-^^These anecdotes were col-
lected by the late industrioyt Mr. Ritsoni amongst odiec.
materials* for a life of Arthur.

«7

• ' We therefore seem to be jastifiisd^ by the plaine^it
^deductions of reasonmg, by direct contemporary
testimony, and by the internal evidence of the work
itself, in concluding that Creoffrey*s Chronicle is,
-as it professes to be, a translation from some British
original ; and that this original was compiled bC'^
tween the ninth and twelfth centuries, and presents
a feithful picture of the traditions and fables then
leceiyed as history. It would be a hopeless, and
certainly not a very instructive undertaking, to in-
quire into the causes which led, in each particular
'instance, to the indiscriminate adoption of such
-discordant materials} but a late author has sug-
gested, with respect to the character of Arthur, an
explanation which accounts for the monstrous ab-
surdity of his story, and appears to be founded in
an equally intimate acquaintance with the history
and mythology of the Britons. It is given in the
'* Cambrian Biography,'* a small but very curious
work^ composed by Mr. Owen, the modest and
learned compiler of tlie Welsh Dictionary.

According to him there were two Arthurs. Thp
'first was a mythological, and perhaps allegorical
personage} the son of Uthyr Bendragoji, or " Won-
^der the supreme leader," and Eigyr, " the gene-
rating power/* , He was the jircturus, or Grea^

vol,. I. H

Beasr, and pfoprietor of the coMteUatkH L3rra,
which is oaUed b^ the Britons Tel^n Arthur, Of
f* Arthur's Harp/' Manj aatient monumeiit9»
and Bardic memorial-stoo^^ which in different
parts of Britain still retam his naode^ are the jmystir
cal records of his attributes «. The history of thia
allegorical personage is obscurely figured in the
Mabinogion, in some of which, and particularly
(says Mr« Owen) " in that of Culhw(^h and Olwen,
we recognise adventures which must have had a
conunon origin with those of Hercules^ and i^ith
the Argonautic voyage. Therein we meet with
the Indian Menu^ exactly by name^ and with ^imir
lar attributes^ acting as oac of the i^ntft of ArdiuF^
to recover Olwen^ the representative of the fecundi^
of nature, h^ having engaged to exert all his meaoa

* Such monuments are not confined to our island. A
modem French traveller says, *< La tradition conserve dans
ces lieux (near Huelgoat in Breta^e) le souvenir de Veiwrme
thateau tPArtus. Des rockers de granite entassA, doftnmt ti^e
de ses vastes murailles. On dok y trouver d«8 tr^sorg gaitMs
pair des d^ons, qui spuvent traverseot let airs soiis hi ftrmt
4*^lairs, et de feux follcts, en ponssant quelquefois desbu^-
lemens afireux; ils se r^p^tent dans les forets, dans les gorges
du voisinagc, &c." Voyage dans le Finistere €h 1794 el
1^95. Paris Tan vii.*— It is evid^t that the historical Arthur
€fliildiiar& nd right to sueh a castle.

fbr that purpose against the adverse powers. fiiKt
be add his heroes fail; are hud to sleep for agesi
bat at length they are to rise and triamj^/'

The other Arthur is well known to Wdsh
bistOTf^ being celebrated in the songs of lijwarch
tita, Merddhin^ and Taliessin, and recorded in the
Triads^ as a brate and generailj successful warrior,
bat without any excessive or exaggerated praises.
He was the son of Meirig ap Tewdrig ; appears to
have succeeded, about the year 510, to the throne
tfitte Silures 3 and, having distinguished hioaself by
a number of partial actions s^inst the Saxons at the
head of his own subjects, was elected, about 517,
by the allied princes of Britain as leader of tlie con«
federacy. In this situation he continued to direct
the military operations of his countrymen with such
ability and success, as to give a temporary prepon-
derance to the British arms till the year 540, when
a dissension taking place in the government, his
nephew Modred took part against him; entered
into a league with the Saxons ; and, after two years
of contest with his uncle, at length risked his whole
forces in the destructive battle of Camblan, which
proved fatal to the leaders of both armies, and de-
cided for ever the superiority of the Saxons.

Whether we suppose that Arthur was the real
baptismal name of this warrior^ or an appellation '

100

'conferred by the gradtude of British historians and
•poets on the temporary saviovir of their country, we
may eaisUy believe that this similarity of name might
ultimately tend to identify the two personages, and
thus introduce into history all the mytholo^cal
ejttravagancies of the Mabinogion. Mr. Owen's
explanation, therefore, may at least be received, for
-the present, as an ingenious and probable conjec-
ture ; but its confirmation must depend on the testi-
mony of those antient Welsh tales, of which it is
expected that a correct and faithful English transla*
tion will shortly be given by him to the public.

101

SECTION V.

Inquiry into the State of Wales during the
eleventh^ twelfth, and thirteenth Centuries^
— Intimate Connections of the fVelsh and
Normans » — Influence of this on Romance. — ;
Slate of the Welsh Tribes within the Scotish
Border. — Prohability that some original,
and many translated Romances, were the
Work of Scotish Poets. — Conclusion.

Although Greoffrey's British Chronicle, by
which we have been so long detained, is justly re-»
garded as one of the corner-stones of romantic
fiction, yet its principal, if not sole effect, was to
stamp the names of Arthur, Merlin, Kay, and
Gawain with the character of historical veracity 5
and thus to authorize a compilation of all the hbies
already current respecting these fanciful heroes and
their companions. For the reader will have ob-
served that, concembg Sir Launcelot and his bro-
thers 5 Sir Tristram 3 Sir Ywain -, Joseph of Arima-
thea and the Sangreal ; the round table, with it«
perilous seat -, and the various quests and adven-
tures which fill so many folio volumes^ not one

word is to be found in the Chronicle. These were
subsequent additions, but additions apparently de-
rived from the same source. The names^ the
manners of the heroes, and the scenes of their ad-
ventures, were still British ; and, the tastfi for these
strange traditions continuing to gain ground during
at least two centuries, the whole literature of Eu-
rope was ultimately inundated by the nursery- tales
of Wales and Armorica, as it had formerly been by
^e n^thology of Greece and Egypt.

As this apparent revolution in literary taste took
place at a time when the Cymric language and peo-
ple were driven, both in this island and in France,
to the western extremities of the two countries, i^
must perh^s be principally attributed to a cause
already mentioned 3 viz. the early connexions of
the Normans with the people of Bretagxie, among
whom they first formed their language, and fi-om
whom they probably received, and brought over
with them to England, the first traces of those tra-
ditions which they afterwards found in a more per-
fect state among the Welsh of this island. But
thougii this may be fairly received as a plausible
and likely conjecture, it is worth while to examiii^
whether the British nation was, during the^^velftb
century, so insulated and insignificant as it has been
generally represented ; or whether tb^re were spm^

Ififdi

^trcwvstemcefi ia its pelitieal situation which gavti
to it, in the eyes of the Nonnan conqueroirs of
fi^la^dy a degree of in7.portance veiy superior to
that which coul4 have resulted from the contracted
9taUi of il;PL territory.

Ui^ortuoateity, thc^e is not pne of our p^pulaR
listerias of £i]glan(d froni. which the reader could
derive any satis^tory assistance 19 this inquiiiy.
Indeed^ it is chiefly to the rese^irches of Mr«
WlutalLer, of Mr. Gihbon,^ and of Mr. Turner, thai
we are indebted lor a i^tional account of the afiairs
cf Britain daring the Saigon »fa ; after which wq
are a^ain kft in darkness, having oo guides but thft
very laconic hiatory c^ Caradoc, together with a
lew hints from the Anglo-Norman writers of th«
same period. It is to be hoped that the industrioui
editors of the Welsh Archeology will ultinfiately
supply us with more abundant materials, and that
smae future hii^cHiaa may be enabled to form a
more sati^actory narrative of events from the NoCf .
man ccmquest to the final sv^jugaition of Wa^ by
^ward I. i but in the mean time, the little that
can be gleaned respecting a subject hitherto, so
Buoch neglected, will perhaps be thought worth
colkcting. A few short remarks on the antecedent
period may be convenient to aome.readers, by saving

104

them the trouble of a reference to the authorities
alreJdy mentioned.

It is now fully established that the Britons be*
came independent on Rome about the year 410^
and that^ when abandoned to their own eifortS/
they were perfectly equal to their own protec-
tion^ so long as they continued in any degreed
united. But the thirty municipal governments^
into which they seem to have been divided^ wero
little calculated to promote unanimity of council or
of action in a people always ready to split into
Actions : and it may be concluded that they soon
relapsed into their ancient habits, and were ^sepa-*
rated into clans, headed by ambitious chieftains
always struggling with each other for a precarious
Superiority. The successful inroads of the Scots
and Picts seem to have forced on the Britons the
creation of an elective dictator or Pendragon, an
officer apparently known to their earliest constitu-
tion 'y but when tliis dignity also was seized by
usurpation, the whole country was plunged into
irretrievable anarchy. Such was the state of things
at the first arrival of the Saxons.

Hengist, whether brought to our shores by acclt
dent or by invitation^ soon demanded and obtainedj^
as the reward ot his services^ an independent esta^

l65

blishinent^ which heaf^^rwards continued to msAiit
tain and increase at the expense of the native%
vrhom his arrogance or th6ir own fickjeness pro?
X^ed to hostilities. From this period, therefore,
the isle of Thanet became Saxtm-land, and the rest'
€)f the country Welsh-Jand ', because, as Giraldli«
Cambrensis has justly observed, the Teutonic na-
tions alw^s gave to the Celtic the denomination of
Welsh. Our island, therefore, was divided, about
tiie middle of the fifth century, as it still is, into
two parts, one of which has constantly continued
to increase at the expense of the other, till their
relative extent and population have been nearly
reversed.

As the ultimate success of the Saxons is undeni*
able, the greater part of our historians have neg-r
lected to notice the slowness of their progress. Yet
it appears that the west riding of Yorksbiie was not
completely subdued till 020, nor Lancashire til|
670 ; more than two centuries of bloody warfare
had therefore elapsed before the invaders were able
to break the communication between the Britons of
Wales and those of Cumberland and Strathcluyd.
Cadwallon» who was MUed in 631, and who is said
to have fought against the Saxons no less than four-
teen pitched battles, was apparently the last of the
Welsh princes who attempted a regular contest for

106

Tictory in the open field ; but they Btill continued
to harass theif enemies by a long and vexations
oj^sition^ adc^ting the same mode of resistance
which was afterwards employed by the Scots agsunat
Edward I. i avoiding all pitched battles, but poor*
ing down from their hills with sudijen and unex*
pected violence^ and wasting the Saxon provinces
with frequent and desultory attacks^ Theexten*
sive forests, which then covered nearly all the
heights of the midlapd country, insured a petreat to
the marauding natives, and afforded pas^tumge for
the numerous flocks and herds which fottaed their
principal subsistence, and for the- small but active
breed of horses which furnished a formidable ca«
valry. The Saxon writer*, perh^, have related
without much exaggeration several .expedttioqa ia
which their armies penetrated into the vezy heaxt of
Wales, wasting the country and destroying the
cities 3 but though they conceal in studious sijeaoe
their own losses, yet the famous rampart qallcd
Offa*s dyke, erected as late as the middle of the
eighth century, must be admitted as an undeaiable
testimony to the predatory activity of the Britons.
The contest, however, b^me every day noore
unequal, because the law of gavel-kind,, which pre*
vailed in Wales, led to a constant subdivision of
power and territory, whereas the numerous Saxoo

eolpniea were gradually consolidated into t m«H
marcby. The Welsh, tberefflare, were ultimately
X'educed to a sullen aoquiescepoe in the greatness of
tteir rivals^ and were even cpo^pelled to pay> as an
ackqpwledgment of Saxpn superiority, an annual
tribute, the amount of Which is fixed inthe laws of
Hpwel Dha.

Mr. Hume has riepresented the Saxons, during
the {progress of their conquests, as exterminating or
driving away the whole British population^ ^nd
}a^ eyen contended that they were compelled to do
IP for the security of their own subsistence. It is
iqi|gular that this acute and able writer should hav^
convinced himself by so strange a reason. That a
l^ody of northern pirates should have been unable
to. subsist in a flourishing Roman colony without
destroying the cultivators of the land $ and that they
ibould have found it expedient^ while harassed by
OoptiQual warfare, to lay by the sword and to take th^
plough into their own hands^ would scarcely appear
credible even if a similar conduct had been attri-
tmted, on the best historical evidence, to the Franks
and other barbarous conquerors ; because the ne^
cessity of obtainuig reci'uits by sea was a peculiar
obstacle to Saxon population. Indeed^ a fact sp
glaringly absurd could never have obtained admits
taoce into our history^ had it not been assumed ^t

die same time as a self-evident |m){k>srtiQn> that oiir
language and laws are purely nortbem^ and exhilnt
no traces of any mixture between the Saxon con-^
querors and the native inhabitants. Bat this assump-
tion has^ on examination^ been found to be fidse.'
There are good reasons for believing^ that hear one^
third of our language is of Welsh origin j and, witk
respect to our laws, Mr. Whitaker has shown diat
the Saxon system of policy v^as grafted upon that
of the British^ though considerably modified, so as
to suit the freer and milder government to which
they had been previously accustomed ; and that this
system underwent very little change even at the
Norman conquest, which has been generally consi«
dered as the epocha of almost universal innovation.'
Power and property, indeed, were transferred by
that event into other hands j but the tenures under
which they were held, and the services exacted as •
their price, are either mentioned by name, or de*
scribed and defined in the various codes of laws
enacted by our Saxon ancestors. A neariy similar
scheme is seen in that of Howel Dha, which is
professedly a collection and renovation of the usages
long before established in Wales -, where the law
of succession, by requiring incessant subdivisions
of property, had multiplied the services of vassalage
to as great an extent as could be demanded by the

100

tititaost tefioemeDts of the feudal system. Upcm
tie whole, though it is certain that the leaders Blad
princes of Britain defended their power with equal
"Valour and obstinacy, it would be very rash to conr
^lude that the whole body of their subjects preferred
-^exile or extermination to a timid and disloyal acqui*
-escence in the government of a foreign invader 5 or
that this invader disdained to derive from the la-
bours of his new subjects, either the necessaries of
life, or those luxuries and aseful arts whic^h they
had learned from the Romans. In short, all ana?
logy seems to concur with the best evidence, ia
leading us to believe that the Siaxons and Britons pf
the low lands were gradually incorporated, like the
fVanks and Gauls, though perhaps in very differenjt:
proportions, so as to form one people.

The Norman conquest was an event which was
beheld by the Welsh with the greatest exultation,
because it revenged them on their enemies the
Saxons, and on Harold, from whom they had suf-
fered much } b\it they seem to have derived from it
DO advantage beyond the present gratification of
iheir passions. Had William's success been less
rapid and complete, it is probable that during his
struggle for empire he might have invited the
Welsh princes to share in the dangers and profits of
hit enterprise 5 but, having gained England by a

IID

single battle^ he succeeded of ikjont to the dainii
of the Saxon monarchs, and having maroli^d an
tmtny in 1080 as far as St. David*8> redeifed the
homage and tribute of the Welsh nation. Sok&e
degree of intercourse appears to have taken pfatoe
between the Norman and Cambrian lords^ beciiifle
We find the Normans called in as allies by Caradoe
ap Griffith^ and afterwards employed in some peiif
enterprises in Cardigan ; while on the other hand a
number of Welsh appear to have enlisted under fh6
banners of the earl of Hereford. But what wei^
Exactly the relations betweai the Normans and
their British neighbours 5 what was William's sy*
stem of policy respecting themj or whether hd haid
leisure to form any^ amidst his various and hnpbrfcatt
occupations^ cannot be discovered fix>m the imper*
feet notices of contemporary historians.

But the next reign furnishes us with sotate cir^
eumstanc^s which> though generally passed over ^
nnimportant, may perhaps throw some light on the
obscure politics of this period. It seems that k
petty baron of South Wales^ named £ini6n ap
Collwn, having by his military services ingratiated
himself at the court of William Rufus^ was dis«<
patched to London by Jestyn ap Gwrgant, lord <^
Glamorgan, with ordea:^ to obtain^ if possible^ tb^f
succour of some Norman forces against Rhys ^
3

Ill

TewdWT) piince of South Wales ; and was pro*
mised^ if his embassy should be successful^ the
Imid of Jestyn*s daughter m marriage. Einion
^oocmiplished bis purpose^ and engs^ed the serricei
C3f Robert Fits-Hamon, and twelve other knights^
^ whose valour the victory was secured to Jestyn^
and Rhyt was slain in the^ engagenoent. But tfat
iiand of the lady was now contemptuously with«
lieki; md the mortified atnbassador had no means
of obt»nitig redress but by requesting the assistance
of h» allies iigainst his former employer. His ne-
godaitiong were again suocessful; Jestyn was de-
feated in his turn, and his h^ds^ comprehending
ibb whole lordship of Glamorgan, were divided
betweeti Fit2«tiamon and his companions. <Such
a tetnpting example could not be resisted by Nor«
man cupidity. William Rufus was assaulted by
daily solicitors for the grant of such lands in WaleJi
Us the ^vraturers might be able to conquer ; and
many of our early nobility, the Cecils, the Lacies^
the Montgomeries, the Mortimers, and others,
^wed a ccmsiderable part of their great demesnes tb
the success of similar expeditions. Yet wheA
William himself, a prince of ^great military talents,
at the head of a veteran and victorious army,
attempted the invasion of Wales in 1097, it it
agreed on all hands that he was compelled to reti'eat

112

most ingloriously, and after suffering conliderable
'losses.

If we pursue our examination through the fol-
lowing reigns, we shall £nd a succession of similar
contradictions. Such was the increase of Norman
influence in Wales, that Henry I. exercised there
all the rights of a feudal sovereign ; bestowed on
his favourites the territories of such Welsh lords as
he thought it convenient to dispossess ; and even
conferred on a Norman the vacant bishopric of St^
David's. Yet his expedition in 1113 against Grif<*
fith ap Conan *, prince of North Wales, and O wei^
prince of Powis, was by no meai>s reputable t&the
royal army y and the caresses which he bestowed
on these princes after their submission;, and the
subsequent progress of Griffith ap Rees^ strongly
confirm the assertion of the Welsh historians, that
Henry*s triumph, such as it was, resulted much
more firom his policy tlian from his military
prowess.

During tlie troublesome reign of Stephen, the
royal power was completely crippled by internal
dissensions ; but in that of Henry II. we find fouv

' • It may perhaps be worth while to remark, that this
prince, who was able to withstand the utmost efforts of s
royal army, bad been driven from his dominions by Huglk
l^pus. Earl of Chester.

113

gineat expeditions, into Wdes | and WHli^un of
Malmesbsiiy seems to consider it as a great cause
of trinmpli> tliat the English ooooarcfa^ j»y Goiddfi
biniagthet exertions of a powerfiil navj 'with Ihose
ef a vast army> had been.en^led to extort llieisuh^
inission of tlie refractory. Welshmen. ... If, thereforeji
we c(»npare these ihighty e^peditioas and, ^perf
' fect^^occdsses mih the. very trifling effort >by:iW{btich
Edward I. precipitated Ll3rwelyn from, his < dic^nc^
and aanei^ed his principality for eyec to ther£Qgli|Ji
* erawn, we •shall probably; be conyioced .that the
W^shweite> indebted for the enjoyment of thdo
fndepeodeiicei whichlasted tiilneatthe.tdose of.the
^irteenth bentuiy^ to other important, caiisea, id
addilicm lo ».the impracticable nature of i thein' coubi
tqr>and Id the bravery jtnd pertinacity with which
it was defended^

It Will be remembered that, dudUg this early
pexioi, the re^pejetiiire eights ^ lungs, and of -their
barons ^or feoiants in capite^ • were very iU defined^
and that thia was the source of frequent disputes iH
ev^ part '^f Europe. Du^g.peace^ wbeii.:th«
boroua. wei« di^rsed^ they could only 'escape the
capricious injustice of their sovereigiv.by^£ight;
unlesa they ppssessed $uch' a degiise of po^^/.aa
conferred a misohieroua ihdq)fndciic8y;.,aiui.';tfaQ
Aieana of'i^sist^. the ^t.claixha of thelcid^Hm.

roL» I. I

114 .

Buring war they formed a sort of volunteer army $
had constant opportunities of consulting on the
subject of their common interests ^ and often ren-»
dered abortive the best concerted enterprises, id
eases where those interests might have been com-
promised by success. Now the independence of
Wales> as afibrding a place of reiuge to fugitive*
from arbitrary power ; sm offering almost impreg-
nable positions for their fortified castles ^ as abound-
ing with a tenantry inured to predatory expeditions^,
and ready to take arms at the first summons^ wa»
of the utmost importance to the whole body of
Norman barons^ and particularly to those who had
been able to extort by force, or to obtain by matri-
monial alliances with the native princes, a perma-
nent setdement in the country.. These last were
among the most powerful of our nobility ^ and the
successes of the first adventurers in Ireland, under
Strongbow> afibrd a curiousi example of the power
which they were capable of deriving firom their
Welsh vassals. It is therefore evident that evexy
attempt at the subjugation of Wales on the part
of the crown, was sure to be thwarted and opposed
as much as possible by the officers of the royal
army, all of whona were personally interested in
rendering such expeditions abortive.
On the jother hand, our monarcbs were by no

115

means inattebtive to their own interests^ but em*
^oyed all the engines of terror and of flattery to
procure and preserve a predominant interest in the
principality. When their arms were successful^
they never failed to exact from the Welsh a num*
ber of hostages^ usually chosen firom the noblest
youths of the country^ on whom they revenged
with remorseless severity every insurrection of their
kindred ; at the same dme that they encouraged
and received at their courts with the most flattering
distinctions^ all such Welsh lords as they were able
to gain to their interest. At other times they en-
deavoured, by the allurements of a splendid alii-*
ance, to gain over the princes themselves^ and
David ap Owen and Llywelyn ap Jorwerth had
the honour of being married to Norman princesses.
All these eflbrts of policy were successful when
guided by able hands } but in an age when power
was attached rather to the person than to the autho-
rity of the sovereign, it was impossible that either
flattery or terror, when employed by such kings as
John or Henry HI., should control the insubordi-
nation of the barons, or curb the restless activity of
their Welsh allies. Accordingly the barons tri*
umphed over the regal authority, and Llywelyn the
Great appeared to have established, for a time, the
antient independence of his country. The real

116

Strength and importance of Walefl^ htmever, de^
pended v^ry much on the anarchy of the tune^f
its we\ght appeved conspicuous only when it tumecl
the scale between contendh^ -pairties of its netgh^
hours. It therefore vanished at the^ accessioii of
Edward I.^ who succeeded to an* undisputed tfarooe
with the reputation of eminent abilities; The Gnat
Charter^ now considca^ as law> must' have fiilly
satisfied the wishes of the wisest barons ) the most
turbulent were tired by the long ducation' of dvil
dissensions^ all wete disposed to'obiey.asbvere^n
who knew how to exact obedience ^ Edward had
also a party in Wales nearly equal to that of the
reigning prince ; so that in removing that prince
firom the throne^ and annexing the principality to
his own dominions^ he had simply the air of re-'
voking the grant of a royal fief^ in consequence of
the contumacy of a rebellious vassal.

During the long course of political intrigue wfaidi
was ultimately terminated by this cmiquest^ it i^cer*^
tainly reasonable to suppose that a degree of inter^
course^ fully sufficient to account for ai)y exchange
of literary materials^ must have taken plac6 be-
tween the Nomlans and the Welsh^ as Well as
between these last and their brethren of Arn(l6rica^
who stood in the same relation as then^lyes to tho
sovereigns of this country while dukes of Nov*

117

mandy : and the Cymric and Breton bards^ follow-
ing their respective lords to the court of a common
sovereign^ h^ every opportunity of comparing the
traditioikal fables of their ancestors^ aind of imparting
them to the French minstrels with whom they
associated. . But^ as there is reason to believe that
the British lays were seldom if ever committed to
^Krriting, it might be expected that different min-
strels would tell the same story with some varia«
tionsj thaty iMlable to retain in their memory the
whole of a long narrative^ they' would carry ojff^ in
the first inst^ce^ detached adventtires^ which they
would afterwards connect as well. as they were
tiAe i and that a system of traditional history^ thus
imperfectly preserved through the medium of. a
yery loose translation, and already involved in much
geographical and chronological confusion, would
assume the fabulous appearance which we find iti
the French narratives calkd romances.

It has been necessary to follow, thus far, the
history of the Norman minstrels, because it is
certainly to them that we are indebted for the
greater part of the romance histories now extant,
which were afterwards avowedly translated by our
English versifiers. But a very elegant and accurate
writer has lately shown that this, though generally^
is not universaUy true ^ and that a small number of

118

our earliest metrical tales were^ most probably^
first exhibited in an English dress^ and then trans-
lated^ or rather imitated^ by French minstrels. As
Mr. Scott*s opinions always deserve attention^ it
may be proper to lay before the reader a short
outline of the reasoning by which they are esta*
blished.

It will be remembered that^ during more than
two centuries after the arrival of the Saxons^ the
whole western coast of this island^ from the ex-
tremity of Cornwall to the river Clyde, continued
to be occupied by the Britons, and that the con-
quest of Lancashu*e, about 670, first effectually
severed the northern tribes of Cumbria and Stradi*
Clyde from all intercourse with those of modem
Wales. This northern district, comprising the
Roman provinces of Valentia and part of Maxima,
had been more thickly occupied by the armies, aiod
perhaps more civilized by the arts of Rome than
any other part of Britain. It gave birth to Aneu-
rin. Merlin, and Llywarch-Hen, the most antient
and celebrated of the Welsh poets 5 it produced
Rede and Adomnan, the earliest of the Saxon histo-
rians ; and continued for ages to retain its literaiy
superiority. Of its history very little is known,'-r
except that, being defended by the strong posts of
Dunbarton and Stirling, aQd in part by the celer

119

brated barrier against the Picts^ still known by the
name of the Catrail^ or war-dyke^ the small king-»
dom of Strathclyde maintained its mdependence^
during several centuries, against the Saxons of
Northumbrian as well as against the separate efforts
of the Scotish and Pictish sovereigns. But when
these kingdoms became united in the person of
Kenneth, about the year 843 , it is probable that
diese Britons, though for a short lime protected by
Athelstan, became permanently tributary to Scot«>
land ', still, however, retaining their language and
manners, and even their nominal sovereigns, — the
last of whom, £wen the Bald, attended Mal-
colm II. in 1018 to the battle of Canrum, against
the Northumbrians. The British kingdom or prin^-
cipality of Cumberland, comprising the present
ehires of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and part of
Lancashire, had been previously ceded to Scotland,
as a sort of fief, about the middle of the tenth cen*
tuiy ; and in the beginning of the twelfth the
earldom of Northumberland, of nearly the same
extent as the present coimty, came by marriage to
David earl of Cumberland^ youngest son of Mal-
4X)lm III., who thus imited to the territories of the
Picts and Scots nearly all those which had been
})0sses8ed by the Angles of Bernicia, and by the
Sritons of Cumbria and Strathclyde.

ISO

Wo must- add that many Norman barons', dis^
justed by the conduct of William the Conqueror;
retired to the court of Malcolm, where tiiey were
lib^:aU7 entertained ; that his sons were twice (in
1094 and 1097) assisted by Anglo-Norman armies
in their contest with the usurper, Donald Bane |
and that at the battle of the Standard roost of
David's men at arms are expressly stated to have
been Normans. Scotland therefore, in the eleventh
Imd twelfUi centuries, contained a still greater va-
riety of inhabitants than England *, but the sevend
stations were placed, in the two countries, under
very different cirumstanoes.

In England, the possession of the soil had beea
wrested from the natives by the Saxons, after a
very long and bloody struggle, maintained on both
mdes with inveterate animosity 3 and it is reroark-
slble that, in consequence of the violent and into?
leiant character of Austin^ thie apostle of the
Saxons, their conversion to Christianity had in«
&med, instead of softening, the rancour of the
rival nations. After the Norman conquest, the
Saxons long ceased tp have apolitical existence;
being parcelled out in minute subdivisions, with
few' means of communicating with each other, and
blindly subservient to their respective masters. In
Scotland, on the contrary, the Scots and Fkts, after
. 3

121

lieii|;fireqaieDtIj connected by such alliances as are
CQo^tible .with a sav^ state: of society^ and en*
gj^ging av friends in a longsnecession of predatoiy
vain. ugainst the Romans; the Britons, and the
Saxons^ were finally amalgamated, after a short
contest for the isoyereignty, by Kenneth, who had
p^tensioos to: the crown of both nations; after
.^t^ch their joint forces snccessively overpowered
llie hostile tribes of Britons and Saxons within their
leachv 'Neither rehgious differences nor mortify-
ing poUlical'distinctions^ appear to have prevailed
^moDg theipeople thus connected by their obedi-
^ice to a common sovereign. It is probable, in-
deed, that they long continued to use their distinct
ImgnageSy and to retain their appropriate laws and

* 7*here is, in the curious old law book called " Regiaxn
Majestatem,** a law called " de Cro," (lib. iv. c. 36.) reg^
latmg the assythment to be paid by a homicide, according
to the rank of the person slain. Skene says that these laws
are oonsuetudiBarj ; that he has seen them yrntten GaUice
(^ French?)^aDd that they are entitled Leges inter Brettos et
S€OiQS, They contain many Celtic or British terms, and so
do various old charters. respecting Cumberlaud and Dum-
fries-shire. This insertion of British customs in feudal in-
vestitures strongly argues a mixture of the people. With
respect to religion, which the Picts received from the Scots
«r Irish, the nttbost harmony seems to have prevailed within
the northcm frontier.

122

customs ; but that this was chieflj owing to their
geographical boundaries^ and to the paucity of their
wants^ which prevented a frequent intercourse.
They were separated by their general barbarism'^
not by their reciprocal animosity. When, there^
fore> these impediments were in a great measure
removed by Malcokn III., who transferred the seat
of government from the Scotish to the Saxon part
of his dominions, a language, in which the Saxoo>
more or less modified by an admixture of the
British, and perhaps of the French, was predomi-
nant, could not fail of being formed j and it was
likely to acquire a certain degree of perfection much
sooner than the English of the south, which was
gradually developed under far less auspicious cir^
cumstances.

This priority of the northern to the southern
English dialect is proved by a passage of Robert de
Brunne, which had been hitherto misunderstood,
and which Mr. Scott has happily elucidated by ex-
hibiting, in the romance of Sir Tristram, composed
by Thomas of Erceldoun, a specimen of the quaint
stanza and elaborate and artificial style attributed by
the historian to that poet and to his countryman
Kendal. He has also shown, by a reference to
antient charters, that the Scotish minstrels of this
early period enjoyed all the r»'ivilegea and distinct

123

tioos possessed by the Nonnan trouveurs, whom

they nearly rivalled in the arts of narratkm^ and

over whom they possessed one manifest advantage

in their familiar acquaintance with the usual scenes

of chivalry. Carlisle^ as we learn from Froissart,

was the Carduel of romance^ the favourite seat of

Arthur 5 and between that place and Penryth is hit

" round table," which, like his " seat" and his

'^ oven," still records his memory. Bamborough

Castle, as we learn from Knighton, was the *' chas-

tel orgueiUeux," and Berwick the ^' chateau de la

jbycuse garde," the favourite habitation of Sir

liauncelot. £ttrick~forest, the Sylva Caledonia

beloved by Merlin, whose remains are supposed to

have be^ buried at Drummelziar, was included in

the territories of Urien and Ywain. Galloway,

according to Mr. Whitaker, was the patrimony of

the celebrated Gawain,, At Stowe, in the vale of the

Gala (the Wedale, or vallis sanctus of Nennius),

a few miles above Melros, was the church of St.

Maiy's, where Arthur, as the British historian

assures us, deposited a piece of the true cross ; and

at Meigle in Angus, between Coupar and Forfar,

tradition still points out the tomb of *' DSime Ga-

nore," the beautiful Guenever. The Scotish min-

strels, therefore, thus surrounded by the memorials

of romance, and having easy access to the tradi-

124

lioDOcy tales of Str^thclyde dnd Cumbria*^ were
likely to be con9i.dered as the. mpst aq^tbentic depo-
sitaries of those narratives ) amd accordiDgly Thomas
of Erceldoun is cited in this character by a french
minstrel^ of whose life of Sir Tristram t^o valuable
MS. fragments are. preserved ii}L Mr. Douce's^ veiy
curious library. Aivother Thoaias^ or perhaps tbe
8ame> is in like manner quoted^ as the best autlio^
rity for the narrative, in a French, metrical, hi^tpry
of '* King Horn ;'V a romance of which the sceoe^
and names are evidently Northumbrian : .,and. the
advoitures of " Wade," twice noticed by Chaucer,
must evidently be referred to the. same country, be-
cause the castle of the hero stood near the Roman
wall, which he is said to have sormounttd. Be-
sides these, the fragments of ''. Sir Gawain" and of
*' Sir Galaron," published by Mr. Pinkerton, have
all the marks of original compositiop, and arQ with
great probability assigned by Mr. Scott to the thip-
teenth century 5 a very early period certainly, but
which is justified by the internal evidence of style,-—

* The intercourse between the Cymric and Saxon tril^
was no leiB likely to affect the music than the poetry of the
latter ; and Mr. Scott has, with great appearance of proba-
bility, attributed to this circumstance the analogy between
the Northumbrian and Welsh modes of singing, remarked
by Giraldus Cambrensis.

ISA

an etidence perfectly admissible in this c^se, be-

ftHisfe tbe egjrly eminence of the' Scotish minstrels is

ptOYtidby the authority of Robert de BrUnhe^ and

l^ tiiat of Wjrntown^s Chronicle.

' As afurthet confinhation of this opinion^ it may

b6 - added^ that ' while Erceldouh, Kendal^ and

Hudi^fo6> poets of the North, are celebrated by

tKit eatly historians 5 while every afitient ballad

bekrfe testimony to die excellence of the ihinstrels

•'firom^the North country;" and while bur MSS.

aix>i:nid -with metrical romafices written in the

Dortbehi diialectj we do not possess one, ah tenor to

the time of Chaucer, which can with certainty * be

ascribed to a poet of South-Britain.

It is now time to close this long and desul-
tory, and perhaps very tedious introduction. Many
readers of the following old-wives'-tales will, pro-

. * It is true that the Life of Alexander, the most spirited
perhaps of our early romauces, has been ascribed to Adam
Davie, Marshall of Stratford le bow, and author of some
metrical visions and other poems in the reign of Edward 11^
and that Mr. Ritson and myself have adopted this supposi-
tion on the authorities of Bishop Tanner and Mr. Warton.
But, having carefully perused every line of the romance, I
am now convinced that they were mistaken. No author's
name is mentioned in it; and its style, which nearly resem-
bles that of Merlin, has no sort of analogy with that of
Adam Davie's visions, as quoted by Mr. Warton.

136

bably^ be little solicitous to know whether the
Danes, the Arabians, or the Britons, supplied the
original materials of such compositions. But the
Inquiry having given rise to much controversy
amongst men of great learning and genius, it did
not altogether depend upon the present writer to
dismiss it with a very slight notice. It seemed to
him, that the best way of avoiding all appearance of
competition with his abler predecessors was, to lay
before his readers at large his whole stock of mate-
rials 5 and this, he hopes, will be accepted as his
excuse for the motley character of the preceding
pages.

APPENDIX.

No. I.

PETRUS ALPHONSUS.

XoR the following short, but accurate, analysis of
this very curious work I am indebted to my friend
Mr. Douce.

There is a copy of the original Latin work en-
titled ^^ Alphonsus de Clericali Disciplina," in the
British Museum ( . ), but it is very de-

fective at the ehd. There are also two French
metrical versions of the same (MSS. Harl. 527 and
4338), the former wanting a leaf at the end, and the
latter imperfect in the middle ; but they vary con-
siderably in the number and arrangement of the
stories, which are generally more ample, and per-
haps better told, than in the Latin copy. It should
seem, therefore, that the French translator has
taken some liberties in attempting to improve his
original, or that he has used a more perfect copy
than that which is here mentioned 5 but this must
remain a question till other Latin copies shall be

128

examined, some of which may possibly be pf*»
served in the National Library at Paris.

With respect to the French MS. of Pierre Anfm
(who is thus named in both the Marleian MSS.)i
which existed at St. Germain des Pr&> No. 1 830,
and has been partly edited, and partly abridged, by
Barbazan, under the title of '^ Casitoiement d*un
Pere ^ son FUs," we must suppose that it was either
very imperfect, or very inattentively examined by
the editor, who treats the work as anonymous^ and
appears to have known^. nothing concerning the
author, Petrus Alphonsus, a converted Jew, who
flourished in J 106, and was godson to Alphonsus I«
king of Arragon. These stories are professedly
borrowed from the Arabian fabulists, and consist
of admonitions from Salaan, or, as the author saytf
be is called in the Arabian tongue, Lucamam, to
his sonj, illustrated by examples, which are arranged
in the following order.

1. Story of the false fiiend and of the dead calf fii a
sack. See Le Grand, fabl. 3. 255. — ^It is re-
markable that Le Grand, as well as Barbazan^
seems to have known nothing about Petrus Al-»
phonsus, whom he classes, under his Frenchified
name of Pierre Anfors, amongst the Norman
fableours. — ^This story occurs in the Gesta Ro-
manoram, chap. 129.

S. The well-known tale of the two merchants of
£aldac (Bagdat) and of Egypt. See Le Grand^

- £M, 3 . 262. Boccace, day x. nov. 8. Gesta Rom.

- cki70.

Si The mule who was ashamed of his &ther^ the

• : ass, and boasted of his grandfather, who wns a
horse.

4. The man, the ungrateful serpent, and the fox*
Hefe the serpent is found tied to a tree, and by
the fox*s cunning tied up again, and not put into

. a sack, as • elsewhere related. See (rest. Rom.
eh.' 174. Dir. Hum. Vitae, or Pilpay.

-6. A poet claims, as a reward for his verses, tliat the
king should appoint him his porter, with liberty
to denoand a penny of every hunch-back, another
of every leper, another of every one-eyed man,

. &c. . A crooked man comes to the gate, and,
having refiised to pay the first penny, is proved
to have all the other defects, and taxed accord-

. ingly. See Le Grand, fabl. 3. 252. Gresta Rom.

. cb. 157»

.6. A man, in opposition to the advice of his fHend,
goes into a house where people were drinking
and rioting. . A robber takes refuge amongst
them, and all the company are hanged.

7. Two persons hear a woman singing, &c.-— A
very silly tale, and not worth notice.

VOL. I. K

ISO

8i A .vine^duBSser wounds his ejo -vduki working in
, his* Vmeyard. Ji^the meaa. time bk) wife vas
. occc^kiod/b}! her: gallant^ Qodie. husband*! le-*
tum^ she contrives the lover's escape i^, kianng
her spouse oin^entbereyeu. Le Grande &bL 4»
. 158. Gest Rom^ ch^ 121. andmaogro£ tbelta*

lian novelists.
g. An artfnl old woman cooceak her daughter's
gallant from the bu«hand^ b^ spreading aaheet
' before his eyes in svu^b a maxmeff as, ta givoi the
lover an opportunit)ir of escaping. Le (xrand^
fabl. 4. 160. GestaBoBi. cb. 122. &c ^c.

10. A nearly similar story, in which the nfiother'
puts a sword intp the hands of the gaUant, kid
persuades the husband, wheia he returns^ thai the
young man had taken refuge frpm thei prHsiiit of
three assas^ns. h& Grand, fabl. 4. l6a &c. iSrc.

11. A king requires his minstcal to tell him a long
stoiy tibat will lull him to sleep. The minstrel
begins a tale conc^mii^ a countKyman wi^o had
to cross a ferry with 600 sheep by two at a time,

. and then &Us asleep in the m^dst of lus story.

: The kisg wakft^s ^im ; but the miiistr^ neqijpsts

. that the countryman mayt be aU^wed to ^ny

over the shei^ h^xq he resumes his nanatfve.

Le Grand, fsbl, l. 210. and io Don Quiiiole;

12. Stratagem^ an aid woman in&vour^ay(ynng

3 ^

131

gallant. Sbeper$\iadeshU mistress^ wLo bad re*
jected his addresses^ . that her little dog was fer-
meriy a woniai^'^and so transformed ia conse-
quence of her cruelty to her loven- The MSS.
VaF^ much m this stqry. Le Gfau^, fabl. 3. 46g.
Gest. Rom. ch. 28. ' ' " ' : '

13. A woxnan^ shut lip in a tower by a jealous hus4
faabd^ throws a stone into a well. The man,
supposing that his wife had drowned herself;
runs to her relief.' She escapes in the '.'mean
6mt, and' contrives in her turn to shut hhn into
the, tower. See the Seven Wise Hastens; Bdc-
cade> day 7- ^ov. 4. 'Le. Grai^d, fabL 3. 143.
Moliere> Georg^ Dandin.

14. By the stratagem of an old woman, a man re-
covers a sum of n^oney which he had left iti the
hapds of a treacherous friendj who refused to
restore it. A person' is instructed to procure
soitie strong gilt trunks y to fillithem wl& stoiie^ ;
aad to bfier to deposit the pretended treasure in
thc{ bands of the defhmder. While this negotia-
tiqn ifl^ going on, the claimant is seilt to Repeat
his denoand; wMch the ^dse frieiid now complies
with, lest any suspicion i^hould faU on bisbcK
nesty in the presence of t^ new dupe. Le
Gnuid, fkbl. 3. 2fi[2« £resta R6m. ch. 110^ Boc«
cace, day 8. nov. 10. Arab. N. EnC :

132

15. A man deposits 10 casks of oil iii die house at
■ a neighbour, whom he afterwards accuses of

* having stolen a part of it. Bj the sagacitf of a
. philosopher, who causes the dregs of the oil to

be examined, the knavery of the accuser is dis-
covered. Le Grand, fabl. 3. ig.

16. A nian loses a purse of gold, containing si
golden serpent with eyes of hyacinth 5 and en-
deavours to defraud a poor man who had found it
of the promised reward, by asserting that the
purse contained two serpents. Sec: 'She dispute

- being referred to a philosopher, the purse is ad-
judged to the finder. Le Grand, &bl. 3. 24.

17* A countr3rman advises some travellers respect-
ing the road, &c. &c.

18. Two citizens and a countryman, travelling to
Mecca, are reduced to a single loaf. - It is agreied
that he who dreams the best dream shall eat it«
The countrjrman disappoints the intended fiand

* of his companions, and gets the loaf. Le Graad,

* fab. 2. 328. (rest. Rom. ch. 106. also in p. 51
of the '' Htstoria Jeschuae Nazareni," a blasphe-
mous life of J. C, of Jewish invention.

19. Story of some cloth-cutters, and of the appren-
tice Bedwi, who procures his master a beating
for demanding him of his honey. Le Crraad,
fabl. 3. 420.

133

20. Two minstrels being at a royal feast^ one of
them places all his bones on the plate of his com-
panion, and complains to the king that he had
eaten all the meat which belonged to them. The
other retorts, by asserting that the first had de-
voured meat, bones, and all. See Gladwi|i*s
Moonshee. Le Grand, fabl. 3. yd.

91. Story of the countryman and of the bird wiio
promised him three things for his libert)". This
is Le Grand's " Laide TOiselet/' 3. 430. Way's
^' Lay o*the little Bird.". Lydgate's " The Chprle
and the Bird.**

22. Story of the wolf, the countryman, and the fox.
The wolf is left in a well, looking after a sup-
posed cheese n^ade by the moon*s image on the
water. — Imitated by La Fontaine in his fables.

23. A thief breaks his neck by catching at a ray of
the moon. In the Dir^ctorium Humanae Vitae,
i. e. the Latin version from the Hebrew of Pil-
pay, Le Grand, fabL 3. 288. Gesta Bom.
cb, 136.

24. A man desires his servant to shut the door.
The servant, who is a very idle fellow, afltois
that it is shut. In the morning, being ordered to
open it, he says that, having foreseen this wish,
he had neglected to shut it. The master now
perceives his laziness, and orders him, the sun

Id4

being ti^n, to get ti|> ind go to his Work. He
now asks for vlctiuds^ and^ being asked if he was
accuJstomed to eat daring the tii^t^ veplies^ '^ If
it be night, suffer me to sleep.** Anolber'time
his master orders hkn to rise i!n the night to dis-
cover whether it rained. He calls the !log, Who
lay at the door, land, finding its ftei dty, pro-
nounces that the weather is fair. Being asked if
the fire was extinguished, he calls the cat, and,
finding her cold, answers in the affirmative. —
Stoiy 60 in Gladwin's Moonshee. It Melandri
Jocor. centur. 2. 210.

25. Th6 same servant, who is a negro named Mai^
muhdus, relates to his m^ter a curious story
exhibrtihg a climax of calamities. See it in Le
Grand, fabl. 4. 1 10.

36. Account oif Socrates, who retired frdih th6
world arid liv^ m a tub, the back of which he
turned to die wind and rain, Paid the front to
the sun. Some hunters come by and laugh at
him while he is lousing himself. He says to

• them, as they stand between him and the sun,
'* What ye cannot give do hot- take away.'*—
They insult him agaiii^ and endeavour to riemove
hts habitation 5 but, not'beiiig able to effect it, de-
sire him to remove his vile carcase, thdt he might
not offend the king, who was coming that way to

135

hunt. He tells them that ''^. their htd is not his
lord, but rather the servant of his servant.' * The
king converses with himj^ aad :he explains his
• sayings &c.

. These.are all that the Latin copy contsdns. )'Ilie
following are stq^ied firam^le Ftench.

27. A thief breaks into a house^ and^ finding more
treasure than he can carry away, picks out the
best part. He forgets himself, and remains till
day-break, when he is secured by the people of
the house.

28. Story of Abraham entertaining the angels.

29. A philosopher finds a tomb inscribed '^ As I am^
you shall be, &c." •

30. A woman, in the absence of her husband, sends
for her gallant, and, wishing to bathe with him (a
sort of prelude in antient times to amorous dalli*
ance), borrows her neighbour's bathing-tub. See
Le Grand> fabl. 3. 455.

31. A merchant goes on a visit to his brother, who
is steward to a certain king. The monarch re-
ceives the merchant with great politeness, and
offers him a considerable farmj which he refuses,
on finding that the king was in the liabit of
spending all his revenues in time of peace, and,
consequently, in case of war, could only defend

136

himself by levying heavy contributions on his

subjects.

Besides the foregoing^ there are several tales from
Alphonsus^ collected together at the end of the ear-
liest collection of the ^sopian fables now extant.
It is the work translated by Caxton^ is in Latiu^ and
without date.

No. IL

MARIE'S LAYS.

A, LATE critic (Mr. Ritson) has denied the Armch-
rican origin of these lays 5 but it is quite needless to
discuss his opinions concerning a work which he
Lad manifestly neglected to read, or was unable to
understand. It will be shorter and less tiresome to
lay before the reader an abstract of the whole col-
lection, which is in many respects interesting, be-
cause it was certainly written in this country 5 was
never printed ; and is known to exist only in one
manuscript, viz. Harl. MSS. No. 978.

The lays are twelve in number, and are arranged
in the following order : 1 . Guigemar ; 2. Equitan ;
3. Lai le Freisne 5 4. Bisclaveret 5 5. Lanvalj 6. Les
deux Amans ; 7, Ywonec ; 8. Laustic j 9. Milun ;
10. Chaitivel; 11. Chevrefoil^ and 12. Eliduc.

About 56 lines at tlie beginning of the work are
intended as a general prologue, and 26 more form
the introduction to the first lay. This prefatory
matter is written in a st}'le of considerable obscu-

138

rity, which was perhaps intentional^ because the
author defends it by the example of the antients^
and quotes Priscian as her authority. But the doc-
trine which she m6ans to inculcate is^ that those
who possess talents are bound to employ them, and
that study is always good, as a preservative from
vice and firom afEiction. She tells us that she had
therefore formed a plan of translating^ fi'om Latin
into romance^ some good history / but fatxad that h^
project had been anticipated, by odiens. She tfsen
thought of the numerous Isy^ which cdbe Imd hm^,
^and had carefully treasured ih her mevriory. These,
«he was sure, must be new to the generality d^her
readers ; and in this confidence she offers to the
^iog (probably our Henry III.) the fruits of her
labours. After complaining that she has met with
«nvy and persecution where she deserved prabe,
she declares her intention topersevere,. and tore-
late, as briefly as possible, Buch stories as she knows
io he true, and to have heen formed into lays hy the
Britons.

Les contes ke jeo sai verrais,
Dunt U Bretun ontfait les lais
Vus conterai asez biiefment, Src.

No. 1. Guigeraar.
. This lay, consisting of 942 lines^ having been faith-

139

fully analysed by Le Grand, and beautifully tran»*

lated by Mr« Way, requires no furtherndtice in thii

place.

No. 2. Equitan, 282 lines.
Eqnitan was a prince of Bretagtie, who was so

passionately attached to the amusements of chi-*
valry, that he cared neither for business nor gal*
lantry; Nothing but the necessity of heading big
troops could withdraw him firom the pleasures of
hundng and hawking ; and the whole business of
the state was managed by his steward, a man of
equal lojralty and experience. Unfortunately this
steward had married a beautiful wife. The prince
heard her much praised 3 admitted that these praises
were deserved ; and insensibly began to think his
huntmg and hawking most agreeable when it con-
ducti^d him, at the end of the day, to his stewari^g
castle, where he had a natural opportunity of seeing
and conversing with the lovely hostess. Equitaa
was overcome by his passion almost before he was
conscious of being in love : he began by reflecting
with shame and remorse on the baseness of the part
which he was preparing to act, and ended, as usual,
by determining not to endure the misery of priva-
tion and disappointment, if he could succeed in
seducing the wife of his friend. Having devised,
in the course of a sleepless night, as many argu-

140

ments as were necessary to satisfy his own mora*
lity^ and formed a plan for securing a long inter-
view with his mistress, he set off for the chace ^
returned after a short time under pretence of a
sudden indisposition $ and, retiring to his bed, sent
to request a visit from the lady, who perhaps was
not much surprised at receiving from the invalid a
very long and eloquent declaration of his passion.
To this she replied, in the first instance, by very
proper expostulations ; but when at length the ena-
moured Equitan assured her, with the utmost
solemnity, that, if her husband were out of the way,
he would gladly make her the partner of his throne,
she suddenly gave way to the splendid offer>* and
proposed, with his assistance, to destroy the steward
so artfully that neither actor in the plot should in-*
cur the slightest suspicion. Equitan, far from being
startled by this atrocious proposition, readily assured
her of his concurrence, and she continued thus 3
'* Return, sir, for the present, to your court ;
then come to pursue your diversion in this forest,
and again take up your abode under our roof. You
must once more pretend to be indisposed ^ cause
yourself to be blooded ; and on the third day order
a bath, and invite my husband to bathe and after-
wards to dine with you. I will take care to prepare
the batliing<tubs. That which I destine for iiim

141

iliflll be filled with boiling water^ so that he will be
iQStantly scalded to death 5 after which you will call
in -your attendants and his, and explain to them that
your affectionate steward had suddenly expired in
the act of bathing;*' . The prince readily consented
to take his part in this diabolical plot, and, at the
end of three months, every thing was arranged for
Its execution. The baths were actually filled and
pUiced before the respective beds 3 but the steward,
lirho had risen early in the morning, for some pur-
pose of business or amusement, happening to stay
rather beyond the appointed time, the two lovers
had met during his absence, and, forgetting that
their guilty project was not yet atdomplished, had
proceeded to satisfy their mutual passion. A maid
was stadoned at the door, near which stood the fatal
bath ; but the husband returning with precipitation
suddenly forced open the door, in spite of her feeble
opposition, and discovered hb wife in the arms of
Equitan. The prince, under the first impulse of
surprise and remorse, started from the bed at the
appearance of his steward, and, heedlessly plunging
into the boiling bath, was instantly suffocated or
scalded to death. The husband, almost at the same
instant, seized on the guilty partner of his bed, and
threw her headlong after her paramour. Thus
were the wicked punished by the means which th^

143

hiid devised for the destruction of another j and
such is the substance of, the lay which wfs coboA
posed b J the Bretons under the name of Equitan* i

No. 3. Lai le Freisne, 528 lines.

This lay was translated into English by some un-
known but nearly contemporary writer^ and thi^
version^ which still exists in the Auchinleck MS.«
having been kindly communicated to me by Ay
friend Mr. Walter Scott, it will be found among
the miscellaneous romances of the present col*-
lection.

No. 4* Bisdaveret, 318 lines.

Our author informs us that this is the Breton
name for an animal which the Normans c^ Gar^
waif j and adds that formerly men were fi^uentljf
metamorphosed into this beast^ and during such
tipies were the most ferocious and destructive of the
^ihabitants of the fprest*. She then proceeds to
her story.

* It seems that this superstition still remains in Bretagne
^ Dans I'opinion des Bretons, ces memes hommes se reve*
tent, pendant la nuit, de peaux de loups, et en prennent
quelquefois la forme, pour se trouver a des assemble oil le
d^on est suppose prisider. Ce que Ton dit id des d^guise^
i^fttnts et des courses nocturnes de ces pr^endus homine4oupit

143

Hiere lived formerly in Bretaghe a baron who

\fras comely in hi^ person, wise, courteous, adorexi

hy his neighbours, much belovied by his sorere^i

and married to a noble and beautiful lady, fac

"Whom he felt the warmest afibction, which she ap-*>

peared to return with equal sincerity. But she had

observed that her husband was regularly absent

during threedays in the week, and, suspecting that

there must be something mysterious in this periodi*

caldisai^aranee, resolved, if possible, to extort tho

aiacret. She redoubled her expressions of tenders

nets i bitterly lamented her frequent intervals of

widowed solitude ', and, affecting to be persuaded

that he bestowed on a mistress the many hoprs of

fleparation from his wife, earnestly conjured him to

dmU tespece iCest pas encore enHererp^t iteirUe dans VarKienm
drnforiqu^i nou8 rapelle ^€ ^ue llii^toire rapportedes lycar^
traphet d'Irlande — jet ce qu* Herodote dit des Neures. (Ori-
gines Gauloises par La Tour d'Auvergne Corret. cap. 2.)
Mr. Walker, in his historical memoirs of the Irish bards,
quotes the following lines from a poem descriptive of the
manners of the Irish :

Th^ B«xi str^Qge stQry which his ears
H^eiv*d9 WKs of some wolves and bears.
Who on(;e were men of worth and fai^e.
But, by enchantment, brutes became ;
And would, if tales sing truth, obtain
'Their former human shape again.

144

calm her ai^refaensions by the disdosore of (be
truth. The good banm warmly conjured her in hb
turn to desist from an inqiiiry which woold axlf
lead. to their permanent separation, and to the ex«i
tinction of all her fondness; but her tears and
blandishments, prevailed, and he confessed that,
during half the week, he became a BisclavereL
The lady, though she felt a secret horror at finding
herself the wife of a wolf, dissembled her disgust^
and pursued her inquiry. Were his clothes also
transformed ? or was he naked at the time of his
transformation } The baron answered, that heiras
naked. Where then did he leave his dress } To
this question he endeavoured to avoid giving an an-
swer, declaring that, should this secret be discos
vered, he would be condemned to wear his brute
form through life 5 and observing that, if she loVed
him, she could have no wish to learn that of which
the knowledge would be useless to her, while its
disclosure would be fatal to him. But obstinacy is
.always an over-match for rational argument. The
wife still insisted ^ and the good-natured husband
ultimately told that, *' by the side of an old chapel,
situated on the road to the thickest part of the
forest, was a bush which over-hung and concealed
an excavated stone, in which he constantly depo«
sited his garments.*' The wife, being now mistress

^ the.baroif 8 fstte, quickly formed her declsioq.

•fibe fent for a ^lant^ whose lote she had hitherto

TUQ^cted ; cfflfered him immediate possession of her

-pearsoQ ; taught him the means of confirming her

.]|U8band*$ metamorphosis; and^ when thebaron*a

'£ieiids had finally, renounced all hopes of his re-

tarn, married her new favourite^ and conFeyed to

:lupci a large inheritance, the fruit of their joint

ibttadieacy. . In nbout a year the king went to

•haot in the forest, and, after a chace which lasted

' tiifii whole ^jfj had nearly run down the unfor-

10Date:BisQl9yeretj when the persecuted animal

TIMhiQg.iiyiqi- ^ aqd roiming straight up

to th6 kingi ^zed his' stirrup with his fore-paw,

.teganto lick hia feet, and widi the most piteous

.vfaiotf^ to implore hi^prptection. The- king was,

tt Sati. i}r^9<UuUy firigl^tepod;. but his fear soon

.gm WBy to ^ty and adm^r^ion. He called his

jattendantB to witness the miraple } ordered the dogs

.ti^ be. whipped' off} solemnly took the brute under

■hif royil protection ; and returned to his palace,

doaely fi)Uowed by his savage attendant. Bisclaveret

AX)ti bftcinw^!^ universal favourite > he was fed with

•the giMe9t c^e, slept in the royal apartments, and,

■dioi^/ilidefi^igab}ein bis attentions to the king

lui nia$t4n'» returned with gratitude the caresses of

^ CQUrtiers, who admired and e^^med, without

TOL. I. Ii

146

envyingj his siqifeaior intelligesofr'and &eebi]i^Sd»>
fnests. At length the king haviisg tfidaght fit tK
summon a pkoar court; his^baroin fleeted fynttk fXk
quarters to th6 festivB}^ afid, aanebg ttner vM, tii^
husband of the ^se lady* No one had bought of
paying the le2»t attention t» Biscteren^* wbosii
gentleness "was eyea. more lemailuihle than Ins
sagacity: but no sooner did the knight mAo hk
appearance than the animal attacked him with t&6
greatest ftiry, and was searcdy" ppfrented, even -hjr
the interposition of t^ king himsdf, from tllirin^
him to pieces. The same scene' dcctuttsd a MMQli
time^ and occasioned infinite smpttsef ^ali^agr06d
that Biscla\'eret must have had godd i^easoBt ibr hii
conduct^ though it was not easy to cot^ectnte wfatft
injury he had received* Not long «fter lliis^ the
king went to hunt in the forest itdieie-thendiiial
had been fontid ; and the wicked wtfe^ as-ladtyiif
the mxior, having sent before her li im^gaifiMifc
present^ set forth to pay her court to bBriaofeuSfiL
Bisdaveret saw her appro«:h, AewvfKlD hef; u&
insteantly tore her nose from her (adti -lluii-^iat^f
discourtesy to a lady^xdted univerBSi iwBgniitiOD^
tv^ the- king himself took pet «gBiast:l)da,^fil^
vonritC/ who would have been pianMhad^wilir'ii]^
'St^t death/' but for the intefferente c£ mkBgA
eouiK^llcMr^ ^'-Ihis bdy^ sir/*^ said he to tfat1uBg»

147

^^wastEe wife of tliat^i^twfabih yoii so t8zi*«

<Serly'lo9ed, and whose unaccountable disappearance

ymi' havje aokmg regretted. Hie baron whom Bia^

^rlsveret^firstassaultedis her present husband. Yout

£nrOfimte' aninud^ whose gentleness and sagacity

s^ppetf nearly humani beoomes ferocious* only Hi

^he appearance of these two^ There is certainly

some'mystery in this^ which the lady, if imprisoned

^md interrogated, could probably discoTer. Britany

is the country of wonders-—

Msunte merveille avum veu
Qui en Bretaigne est avenu.'*

In compliance with this advice the lady was put ift
dose confinement^ the whole secret extorted^ and
the clothes' of Bisdavetet duly restored. Biit when
Aey wtri btooght before him the animal aj^ieared
(K^sofvey them widi listlesoiess and inattrationj
aftd tte king had again recourse to his sapient ceim«
sefl^ by whdse advice they were transferred to the
ro^ bed^-thamber, where Blsclaveret was left^
wUhoidt'WitneBses, to efiect,* if possible, hismeta«
mdr^^iosis. In due -time the king, attended 1^ two
cfliSjI'bardiis, repidred tothe chamber, and feund
the kmj^t^ iA his natural form, asleep on the royal
fac^ * His master immediately embraced him with
te*iilinoi9t affection 5 restored all'^s estates 5^ added

t48

waore | and banished the wicked wife^ together with
her paramour, from the country. It is remarkabk
that, after her accident^ she became r&ry proUfic«
and bore several children, all of whom werp. i^
males, and distinguished by the di^agroeableiwgu*
lanty ofbeing bom without noses. Be assured that^
this adventure is strictly true^ and that the lay ., of
Bisdav^t Was composed for the purpose of making
it known tiX the latent posterity.

No. 5. Lanval, 646 lines.

For the substance of this lay, also, the reader is
referred to Le Grand*s collection of £ibliauz, and to
Mr. Way's translation.

No. 6. Les deux Amants, 242 lines*

. In Neustria, now called Normandy, Ua.WgtQ,
mountain of unusual height and verdure, c^lecl thq
mountain ''of the two lovers,*' in conseqiience of
an adventure to which it gave tise, and of which
the Bretons have formed a lay. . jQlose to it luie the
remains of a city, nowreduced to. a few houses, t^it
formerly opulent, founded by the king of ^
Pistreins, whence it was called Djepistreins, aiKlthe
neighbouring valley Val de Pistre. This king: ha^
an only daughter, whom he loved with such .ten*
derness that he could not bear to be separated "fi^

f4Sf

hfft. With d view to check the pursuits of the
lofers, whom her heautj and accoin{diflhment8 at-
fracted> he puhlished a decree^ that her hand should
l^ver be gnoited but to a Suitor who should be able
to carry her, without resting, from the bottom to
the top of the adjoining mountain. Many at*
tempted the enterprise, for presumption is com-
tacn ; none achieved it, because its execution wa9
barely possible. The suitors disappeared,' one by
one, and the beautiful princess seemed doomed to
eternal celibacy* There was one youth, the son of
a neighbouring baron, who was a favourite with the
king and with the whole court, and whose assi-^
duities, which were dictated by an unconquerablef
and sincere passion, ultunately gained the lady'9
wannest affections. His discretion was such, that
their mutual affection was long a secret to all the
Urorld : but this discretion became, at length, almost
kitolerable; and the youth, hopeless of fulfiiling the
Condition which alone could obtidn the hmid of hiif
Distress, earnestly conjured her to fly with him
froin her fiither*8 court. To this, however, she
would not consent $ but suggested a mode of ac-*
tomjrfishtng their wishes more compatible with her'
filial piety< *^ I have," said she, '' a rich aunt who
resides and hds studied during thirty y^ars at Sa-
kmo. In that celebrated school she has so catd^

1:50

^tely acquired the art of medkine ; 1^ learned*
ap mBDY'SaliDei and drugs ^ ha»8o studied ^2^aiid
roottj that she wUI be enabled tp csompose for yfjfn
eUciuariesBOd 4rinks eapa^M^oi-ooftasff^^
you the de£^«e of vigour necessaiy lor the aoco9i»
pUshmeot of the trial prescribed by my &tbeF*8 law.
To her you shall bear a letter firom taer aod at your
i;etum you shall demand me fix>mt)ie king on- the
terms to which he has himsdf assented." The
lover thanked her 5 went home 3 provided the Qe«
cessary assortment of rich cloths^ and other mer*
chandizei of palfreys^ beasts of burthen, and atten«
dants^-and set off for Salerno^ HH mUaooo waa
perfectly successful. The good auutU electuaries
rendered him much more athletic than before j and
he brought with him^ in a small vial^ an dUzir
capable of instantly. restoring the strength at the
moment of complete • exhaustion. J^e- therefore
returned, full of confidence^ and claimed the trial;
which was granted. The king, having wmn^cm&i
9II his principal vassals to behold the ceieni«ny»
conducted iiis daughter into the great plain <hi tlys
banks of the Seine, and found the youth alry^idj
stationed at the foot of. the mountain. The lovdy
princess had scarcely tasted food 6kK» the departure
of her lover; she would ^dly have wasted benelf
to the lightness of aur for the purpose (rf'diaunishiiig

\m laboor. Of cbtbes she wore oone^ excqiting
ft MA wUch ckfiely (Enveloped her. Her loiwr
eatcUng hev i;^ with one htnd* and beating the
pwcbiia Ytal iathe other, appear^ perfectly un*
QOBsdjous of the httrtheo, and. bore her> with the
nfiiditj ef Iigh|toing> more than ha]f'wajnp. Ae
naountaift: iNit-hece the princess perceived that hii
hreaith began la &il» and earnestly conjured him.tai
hafSB rooQurse io his medicine. He relied that he
was still full of vigour; that he was too much
within sight of the multitude below; that their
cries/ on seong him stop even for an instant, would
anooj anddbhearten him; and that, while able, to
proceed alone, he would not ^ipeal to preternatural
assiJstaooe; . At two thirds of the height the pria*
cess £sit him .totter WKler the weight, and again
v^>eated her. earnest, entreaties. But he no longer
heard or listened to . her : exerting his wliole re-
nain^ of' strength, he ^ta^pered with her to the
top,. sItO bearing the untasted vial in his hand,
and dropped dead on the ground. His mistress,
thialrjag thai he had eoly tinted, knelt down by
faia side, ;applied the e&drlo his lips, but found
thai lifehad'left him. She then dashed the vial on
the gjmod, ut^bered a dreadfol shridc, threw herself
Qrvtii0 body, and instantly e^quredu The king and
hia attendants^ nnx:h surprised at not seeing the

t5i

lorers return, ascended the modnbin, and found
the youth fast locked in the arms of the princess^
By command of her Either they were buried oo the
spot in a marble coffin, and the mountain sdllie*'
tains the name of *' the two lovers.*' Aroond their
tomb the earth exhibits an unceasing verdure ; and
hither the whole country resort for the most vm*
luable herbs employed in medicine, which owe
their origin to the contents of the marvellous viaL •

No. 7. Ywonec, 552 lines.

There lived once in Britsdn an old knight of
great opulence, who was lordof Caerwent, a city':
situated on the river Duglas. He had married,
when &r advanced in years, a young wife of high
birth and transcendent beauty, in hopes of begetting^
an heir to his great estates 5 but when, at the end
of seven .years, this hope was frustrated, he locked
her. up in his strong jcastle, under the care of bis
sister, an aged widow lady of great devotion and
asperity of temper. His own amusements weno-
confined to the chaee $ those of hia sister to tfaumbt»'
iog her psalter, and chanting its contents : thei
young lady had no solace but. in her iears. QnO'
morning in April, when the birds begm to sii^ the>
songs of love, the old gentleman had risen eaily>'
and awakened his sisterj who csizefully ahnt 4ho*

I $3

4bor8 ad»r kim while he set forth for the wdodif
and his yoong Wife began her usual lamentatioiiSb
She execrated the hour \Hien she was bom^ and
the fatal avarice of her parents, for havhig iHuted
herto an old jealous tjrrant, who was afraid of hlif
own shadow, and debarred her even from going Uf
chorch. She had heard that the coimtiy round her
prison was once fmned for adventures; that yoang
and gall^t knights used to meet, without cenisure:
or impediment, beautiful and affectionate mis^
tresses. But her lot was endless misery (for her
t3rTant was^ certainly immortal), unless the supreme
Disposer of events should, by some miracle, suspend^
the lisdessness at her present existence. She had
scarcely finished this ejaculation, when the shadow
of a large bird, which nearly intercepted all the
light proceeding from the narrow window of her
rooAi, arrested her attention* The bird, a falcon of
the lai^est size, flew into the chamber and perched;
at the foot of her bed. While she gazed on the-
£dconit gradually assumed the figure of a young
and handsome knight. She staned, changed co-
lour, and drew a veil over hm- face, but still gazed
and listened widi some fear, much astonishment,
{mt^nore pleasure. The knight soon broke silence*
He begged her not to be alarmed 3 confessed that
histilodli of visiting was new, and rather mysteri«^

¥54:

9USj but that a falcon vas a g^tle and BoUe bu4»
\vhose figure ought not to create su^^icipB. He
was a nei^bouring prinoe, who had long knowii.
and loved her, and wished to dedicate the 19^
i^inder.of hU da>8 to her service, if shewevld.
accept him as her lover. The Iddy, gi»daa|Jy re*
moving her veUj ingenuously told him. that }^. wfft
much handsomer, and apparently more amiahieyrtibib
any man she had ever seoD > and that ^ 9bfcnid be
liappy to. accept him as lover, if such a cooaectioo
could be legitimate, and if he believed in. God.
The prince highly approved of this scn^e; entered
at large into the articles of his- creed; and coi^
eluded by advising that she should feign heiself
sick I send for heat chf^lain $ and direct him to bring
the host ;. ''when," said he, *' I will assume yvar
s^ipearance, and leoeive the sacrament in your
stead." The lady was of course satisfied with this
proposal; and^ whcuitbe old woman came in and
anmmoned her to rise, ^e .professed to be at the
point of death, and entreated the immediate aauat-
anee.of the chaplain; Such a request,, in the 9b-
aence of herjord, could not be regularly granted; :
but a few screams smd a fainting; fit rena0i^;the
old lady's doubts, and she hobbled -o^ i^ sewch of
the chaplain, whp immediately ;brou^t .the hoaiy
and Muldumarec (for such., was. ihe ndm^ of tte
4

iSfJcxmrprinoe)^ assoromg tbe appearance of bit
miatress^ went throngh the sacred ceremony with
IwcxMning devotion. The lovers now considered
themselves as man and ^ife, and acted accordingly.
The ladj*s supposed iUoess enabled the prince to
protract his visit; bat at length the moment of
aeparadon came^ and the lady expressed her wish
for the frequent repetition of their interviews.—*
'/ Nothing is so easy/' saidMuldumarec: '^when-
«ver you eipress an. ardent wish to see me^. I shall
iostantly be with you. But beware of that old
yrojaasu She will probably discover our secret^ nod
betray it to her brother;. and I annonnre to yin.
that the moment of discovery will he that of tny
death.*' With these words he flew off. His
mistress^ with all her caution, was unable to cc»i-
ceal entirely the complete diai^ in her sensatiom.
Her solitude, formerly so irksome, was become the
source of her greatest delight; . her persoo, so long
selected, again became an object of her aolid-
tude; andher artful and jealous husbaAd, on his
letnm from the chace, often discovered in bet foa-
lores the tciees. of a voluptuous satis&ction, .of
which bis conscience told himdiatbewas not]^
sulber. . His vague suspicions, were, . afbr a. time,
ixwimunicatedto his sistet ; but she, . who thou^
iwndf tbejmving lady's sole companioo* aadi could

156

not reproach herself with any enlivenbg iqualidM,-
was equally unable to account for her pupil's con-
tented demeanour. At length the jealous husband
commanded her to conceal herself in his wife'*
apartment during his absence^ to watch inde&ti*
gably^ and to report whatever slie should discover;
His orders were punctually obeyed, and the result
was a full confirmation of all his suspicions. He
now exerted himself in devising the means of ven-
geance. He secretly prepared and placed before*,
the fatal window a sort of trap composed of wdW
sharpened steel arrows^ and^ rising long before day^
set off on his usual occupation. The old ladv> after
carefully shutting the doors after him, returned W
her bed to sleep till day-break ; and his wife^
awakened at this unusual hour, could not refoun
from uttering an ardent wish for the company of
her dear Mulduroarec. Her feithful prince wais
instantly at her side; but Be had received his death
wound, and she found herself sprinkled with hii
blood. Overpowered l^ fear and surprisie, she
could scarcely hear him say that he died for her,
and that his prophecy was accomplished. Shtf
feinted in his arms ; but he conjured her to pre*
serve her life, and announced to her that she watf
pregnant with a ^n, whom she must call YwcHieCi
and who was destined to be the sivenger of both' hi*

.157

)»ansDto. He then hastily departed through an open
wd. unguarded wmdow. His -mistress^ though in
bet shift, uttering a piteous scream^ threw herself
put of the same window^ and pursued his flight bjr
the trace of his bloody which the first beams of
morning enabled her ta distinguish, At lengtl^
sh^ arrived at a thick wood^ where she was soon
surrounded with darkness j but she pursued the
beaten tracks and emerged into a meadow ; whera
recovering the trac^ of the bloody she pursued it to
a large ci^ of unexampled magnificence^ which she
entered, and proceeded to the palace. No one wa^
visible m the streets. In the first apartment she
found a knight asleep. She knew him not^ and
passed on to the next, where she found a second
kn^ht equally unknown to her. iShe entered the
third room 3 and on a bed which almost dazzled he^c
by the splendour of its ornaments, and which was
surrounded by numerous torches blazing in golden
candlesticks, recognised her dear Muldumarec, and
sunk almost lifeless with fatigue and terror by hia
side. Though very near to hia last moments, he
was still able to comfort and instruct her* He ad-^
jured her to return instantly, while she could escape
the notice of his subjects, to whom, as their story
was known, she would be particularly obnoxious.
He gave her a ring, in virtue of which he assured

156

her that she would in ftitore es^pe ihe persecatlott
snd even the jeakmsy of her husband. He then
put into her Imnds his sword, with directions thai
it should never be touched by man till his* son
should be dubbed a knight 5 when it must bed^-
vered to him with due solenmity^ near- the tomb of
his father, at the moment when he should leatti th6
secret of his birth, and the miseries produced by it
to his parents. She would then see the first use to
which her boy would put it. The prince hiad no#'
neariy spent his last breath in -the service of his
beloved mistress ^ he could only instrud: ber by
sighs to put on a magnificent robe which hy tucBi
him, and to hasten her departure. She staggered
through the town, arrived in the solitary fiekl^i
heard the distant knell which announced herlover*^
death, and sunk exhausted to the ground. At
length die air revived her ; she slowly renewed her
journey, and returned to her castle, which, by vir-^
tue of her ring, -she entered undisturbed. 1111 the^
birth of her son, and from that time to the con*
elusion of his education, she lived in silent anguish/
and in the patient expectation of the day of ven^
geance. The young Ywonec, by his beauty and
address, recalled to her mind the loved ihiage of his
fath^; and at length she -beheld him, with-i
throbbing heart; invested amidst the applause ofiiU

159

tite :8pectat<Hrs \Krith the dignity of kni^thood. Tb«
ImmIt of retributicm was now &&t approaching.'. At
Utti fea$t of St. Aaron, in thct tame year, the baron
was summoned udth his family to Caerleon> \t^ere
the festiyal was held with great solemnity. In the
coarse of their journey they stopped for the night
in aiBpacioas abbey, where they were reoeiVed with
tliegreatest hospitality. Hie good abbot, for the
purpose of detuning his gnests during another day,
eadubited to them the whole of the apartments, tha
dormitory, the refectory^ and the chapter-house, in
whidi they beheld a vast sepulchral monoment)
eovered with a superb pall, fringed with gold, and
surrounded by twenty waicen tapers in goldentrahi
dlesticks, while a vast silver censer, constantly
burning, filled the air with fumes of incense. The
l^ts lUitnrally inquired concerning the name and
qudftfy 6f tli6^ person who reposed in that' splendid
Icnib ; and were told that * he was- the late king of
tibstcountiyj the best, the handsomest, the wisestj^
the : most cOtirteous ahd liberal of mankind ; that
lie was treacherously sliun at Caerwent, for his love
toMhe Indy of that castfe y that sinice his 'death hia>
siAjects had respected his dying injunctions, and
reterved the crown for a- son. whose arrival th^
tdU expected with much anxiety. On hearing
&is story the lady called aloud to.Y^is&oneCjr-t^VEai^

160

ioD» t6oa hast heard how Providence hath coif^
dncted us hither. Here lies thy father^ whom thi^
old man slew with felony. I now put into diy
liands the sword of thy sire ; I have kept it long
enough.*' She then proceeded to tell him i the sad
jidventureof his births and^ having with much diffi-
culty concluded her recital> fell dead on the tomb
cf her husband. Ywonec, almost frantic with
grief and horror^ instantly sacrificed his hoary st^
&ther to the manes of his parents > and^ havmg
caused his mother to be interred with suitable ho-.
Hours near the body of her lover^ accepted fixim his
fobjects the crown which they had reserved fxx
the representative of a long line of royal ancestors.

•

No. 8. Laustic, l64 lines.

The author tells us that this lay is called in the
Breton tongue Laustic^, and in '* ri^t English'*
the Nihtegale (nightingale) . It is very well writtepj
and contains many picturesque descriptions^ besides
which it breathes^ throughout^ that peculiar spirit
0f formal gallantry which prevailed in the twelfifi
and thirteenth centuries^ and at that time was likely
to insure its popularity. But the adventure it r^
h(68 is as insipid as possible. In the district of 9^

^ Caustic is still a nig^hdngale in the Breton langosge^
aod4'eau8tac is the French manner of speaking. /

161

lilalos is the town of Bon, which derives its name
£xnn the goodness of two knights who formerly
dwelt in it. The one was married 3 the other was
Id love with liis neighbour's wife, who returned his
afiection. The houses were so near, being only
a^arated by a wall, that the lovers could easily,
£om the windows of their respective bedchambers,
-iiiterchange their amorous glances j talk together
without being overheard, and even toss to each
other little presents and S3rmbols of attachment
For the purpose of enjoying this amusement, the
lady, during the warm nights of spring and sum-
mer, used to rise from her husband's side, and,
throwing a mantle over her, repair to the window
and stay there till near the dawn of day. The good
man, much annoyed by this practice, roughly asked
lier what was the object which so constantly allured
Let fix>m her bed, and was told that it was the
iweet voice of the nightingale. Having heard, this,
he set all his servants to work.; spread on every
twig of his hazels and chesnut trees a quantity of
biidlime; and set throughout the orchard so many
txJ^M and springes, that the nightingale was shortly
caogbt and delivered to him« Immediately run-*
niog to his wife, and twisting the bird's neck, he,
tossed it into her bosom so hastily that her shift was
sprinkled with the blood 3 adding that her enemy

VOL. I. M

162

was now dead^ and that she noight in futore sleep
m quiet. The lady, who it seems was not fertile
in expedients, submitted to the loss of her nightly
c»nversaitions, and was contented with exculpating
herself towards her lover by sending htm the dead
bird inclosed in a bag of white satin^ on which sht
embroidered the history of its fate ^ and her gallant
paramour caused his mistress's present to be in«-
closed in a golden box, richly studded with gems,
which he constantly carried about his p^son.

No. 9. Mihin^, 5a0 lines.

Milun was a knight of South Wsdes. Hit
strength aiM prowess were such that, firom the first
day of his recepdoa into the order, he never met
an adversary who was able to unhorse him. His
reputaticm spread far beyond the borders of hisowa
country, and he was known and admired ia Ire-
land, Norway, Gothlaiid, Loegria (England), and
Albany (Scotland). At no great distance firom Mi*
lun's castle dwelt an opulent baron, who had am
only daughter, courteous In her manners and beau«
tiful in her person. Hearing from all quarters th^
praises of the knight, she became Clamoured of
hka, and sent a messenger to inform him that her

* Perhaps Mflwr, a trorrtor.

16s

heart waH at his service if tie thought it worth hif
acoeptance. Milan, whose affections were not
pre^ngaged, returned an answer expressive of his
gratitude, sent her his gold ring as a symbol of his
inviolable constancy, and, having fixed her jxie8«>
senger in his interests by magnificent presentSi
arranged with him a secure place of meeting.
Their intercourse was managed so discreetly as to
excite no suspicion ; but at length the young lady
became pregnant, and, sending for her lover, leprof
sented to him the fatal consequences of her situ-
ation. By an antient law of the country she was
subject, at her father's option, to be punished with
instant death, or to be sold as a slave ; and she saw
no means of escaping this frightful alternative.
Milun listened in silent horror, but could suggest
BO expedient, when his mistress's old nurse under*
todc to conceal the rest, if the child could be pro-
perly disposed of 5 and for this the young lady
found a ready contrivance. She had a sister richly
married in Northumberland, to whom Milun might
cause the child to be conveyed, together with a
letter explaining all the circumstances of its birth^
and Milun's gold ring, by means of which it might
in due time discover and make itself known to its
parents. This arrangement was adopted, and suc-
ceeded. ThQ young lady was safely delivered of a

M 2

164

boy 5 the ring was hung about his neck, together
with a purse containing the letter i he was placed in
a soft cradle^ swathed in the finest linen^ with an
embroidered pillow under his head^ and a rich
coverlid edged with sable to protect him from the
cold. Milun, in delivering him to his attendants^
ordered that during the journey he should stop
seven times in the day^ for the purpose of being
washed, suckled, set to sleep, and again replaced in
the cradle. The nurse, and all the servants who
attended him, had been selected with great care,
and performed tlieir charge with fidelity ; and the
Northumbrian lady assured her sister, by a letter
which was brought back by the same trusty per-
sons, that she accepted the charge with pleasure.
This point being thus settled, Milun left his castle
for a short time oh some military business, and
during his absence the young lady*s &ther resolved
to bestow her in marriage on a neighbouring baron.
I^he was now almost reduced to despair. Her
lover, to whom she was more than ever attached,
was absent -, she had no possible asylum against the
authority of her ^therj to avow to her new hus-
band what had happened was impossible, and to
conceal it from him extremely difficult. But she
was compiled to submit. The marriage took
^ace3 and Milun on his return was scarcely less

165

distressed than his mistress^ till he recollected thstt
she was still in the neighbourhood^ and that he
might perhaps be able to devise some means of
procuring an interview. He had'a favourite swan^
long accustomed to feed out of his hand. Having
written and sealed a letter^ he tied it round the
neck of the bird ; and, Ending that it was effectually
concealed by the feathers, called to him a favourite
servant, and directed him to repair to the lady's
habitation, to devise some contrivance for gaining
admission to her, and to deliver the swan into her
own hands. The man executed his commission
with great ingenuity. He represented himself to
the porter of the castle as a poacher 3 stated that
he had just caught a fine swan close to Caerleon 3
and that he much wished to conciliate the future-
intercession of the lady by presenting it to her.
The porter, after some hesitation, went to explore
the antichamber ; and, finding in it only two knights
who were intent on a game of chess, returned
immediately, and conducted the man to his lady's
apartment; which, on his knocking, was opened to
them. Having graciously accepted the present,
she was going to recommend the swan to the care
of one of her valets ; but the messenger observing
" that this was a royal bird, who would only accept
of food from her own hand," and desiring her to

caress It^ she soon perceived the letter^ and changed
colour; but, recovering herself, disnxissed the mes*-
Senger with a present^ and turned out her own.
attendants, excepting one maid, • and proceeded to
examine the mysterious letter. It contained the
warmest protestations of her }over*g unalterable
attachment ; expressed a hope that she might be
able to point out a secure place of meeting -, and
ahowed her an easy method of continuing the cor-
respbodence. *' The svrsxk, already tame, might,
by good feeding, be easily attadied to her 5 after
which, if debarred from meat during three days, he
would when set at liberty take wing and return to
his old master.*' After kissing the welcome letter
tiU she had nearly obliterated its contents, she pro^
eeeded to put in practice her lover's injunctions 1
and having by stealth procured sonie parchment
and ink, she made an equally tender reply, which,
being tied round the swan*s neck, was rapidly and
faithfully conVe3red to Milun. During twenty
years the ha^^y lovers kept up, by means of thif
bird, a regular correspondence, and tibieir firequent
interviews were managed with a secrecy which
secured them against detection. In the mean time
their son, after receiving an excellent educatt<»i,
had been dubbed a knight, and had learned from
bis aunt the name of his Either, and the mystery of

his birth. InBamed with a noble ambitionj, he re-
solved instantly to set off for foreign countries^ and
to snrpaiss his sire in military glory. On the next
day he communicated the project to his aunt,
who did not fail to give him a number of Instruc-
tions for his future conduct, which, lest he should
forget them, she repeated more than once, and
accompanied her admonitions with such liberal
presents as would enable him to rival in splendour
the richest of his competitors. He repaired to
Southampton; landed at Barbeduet (Barfleur)^
passed into Bntany ; engaged^ by his generosity, a
numerous attendance of poor knights 3 eclipsed the
proudest of his rivals by superior liberality } van-
quished the stoutest; gained the prize in every
tournament 5 and^ though he concealed his name,
was quickly known through the country by the
appellation of *' the knight without a peer." The
hone of this youthful warrior at length reached the
tars of his father. From the first moment of his
bestriding a horse, that father had never encoun-
tered an equal; and as he trusted that age had
added to his address more than it had yet subtracted
from his vigour, he hoped to prove, by the over-
throw of the peerless but unknown knight, that
bis high renown was owing to the absence of
Milun. After this exploit he meant to go in quest

168

of his son^ whose departure into foreign countries
had been lately communicated to him ; and having
obtained the permission of his mistress^ he em-*
barked for Normandy, and thence proceeded into
Bretagne. The tournaments did not begin till the
festival of Easter 5 Milun, therefore, who had ar*
rived before the end of winter, spent the interval in
travelling from place to place, in exercising hospi-?
tality, and in searching out the most meritorious
knights, whom he attached to himself by his liben
rality. At length the festival took place at Mont
St. Michel, and was attended by crowds of knights^,
French, Flemish, Norman, and Breton, though by
very few English. Milun inquired minutely into
the ^rms and devices of the unknown kmght, and
had no difficulty in procuring ample information.
The tournament began. The two rivals separately
acquired a manifest superiority, and bore down all
who opposed them j but the opinions of the assem-
bly were divided between the two. The strength
and address of the veteran appeared invincible, yet
the suppleness and activity of the youth attracted
still more admiration. Even Milun himself beheld
him with a mixture of wonder and delight, and
9unmioned all his skill and strength when he rode
to encounter this formidable adversary. His sjpear
\vas too well directed to miss its aim ; but it flew

169

into a thousand splinters, while that of the youth
remained entire, and threw him at some distance
upon the ground. By the violence of the shock:
the ventail of his helmet was broken off, and dis-
played his beard and hair, which were become gray
with age ; when the youth, bringing him back his
horse, courteously requested him to remount, ex-
pressing his regret at having by his accidental vic-
tory sullied the fame of a respectable veteran.
Milun, surveying him with increased admiration*
discovered on his finger, while he held the rein, his
own ring, and earnestly conjured him to relate his^
history and the names of his parents. The youth
obeyed, and was proceeding to tell all he knew,
when the old knight again springing from his horse,
and catching him by the skirts of his coat of mall,
hailed him as his son, and received him in his arhis
as he dismounted to request the paternal benedic-
tion. The tournament being over, they retired
together amidst the tears and applauses of the
assembly, and retreated to their inn, where Milun
related to his son the whole series of his adventures.
The young man listened till the end with respect-
ful attention -, and then exclaimed, " In faith, fair
sire, I will unite you to my motlier. I will kill
her present husband, and you shall marry her.*'
Thi& being arranged^ they parted for the nigh t On

17a

ihe next day they arrived at th^ sda ; embarked ;
landed in Wales after a ^lort and pleasant passage ^
and were proceeding to Milun*s castle, when they
were met by a messenger bearing a letter to Miluli
from his lady^ in which she announced the death 6f
her bnsband^ and requested him to hasten his re'*
turn. At this joyful news they hurried on to tha
kdy*s castle ; and she had the satisfaction of bein{(
for ever united to her lover, at the same time that
she embraced a son every way worthy of his accom-
plished parents. On this occasion, says the author^
" ike antients made a lay which I hav6 here set
down in ivriting, and which I always relate with
fresh pleasure.'*

No. 10. Chaitivel, 240 lines.

This lay contains few incidents ; and is rendered,
by means of its strange and abrupt conclusion^ al-
Inost wholly uninteresting to modem readers.—
There formerly lived, at Nantes in Bretagne, a lady
of such exquisite beauty that no one could behold
her with impunity* All the young men of the
town were rivals for her smiles } but four knights,
nearly of tlie same age, and of equal birth and
accomplisiiments, soon eclipsed all the rest of their
Competitors. Each of these four deserved, and ob»
lained, a place in her afiections 5 but their merits

171

were so equal that she was unable ta make a
choice. At tournaments she sent to all four some
mark of distinction ^ a ring^ a scarf^ a pennant^ or
othec ornament ; and all ascribed to her^ as mistress
of their actions^ the exploits which they had the
good Ssrtune to perform. It happened once that
Nantes was appointed for the celebration of a tour-^
nament at the Easter festival. Crowds of knights
assembled from Frsice^ Normandy^ FlandeHs, Bra-
bant^ Boulogne, and Anjou. The four champions^
on the eve of the festival^ set out to meet the
foreign knights, and proposed to just with an equal
number : the offer was accepted, and the contest
eoded to the advantage of the town. On the foU
lowing day the four young lovers still further di-
•tiDguished themselves ; but the spectacle at length
degenetated, as was frequently the case, into a real
combat, in which three out of the four were acci-
dentally slain, and the fourth dangerously wounded.
All four were brought back to the lady of their
ifiectioni, who caused the three to be magmficently
mterred, and summoned the best f^ysicians of the
town to assist her in her attendance on the survivor.
Thdr joint efforts were at length duccessluL He
becan-je convalescent, and, finding his pission revive
with In retoming health, daily importuned the

172

lady for the present of her hand^ to which then»
now remained no other equal claimant. But she
gave him to understand^ that^ feeling herself singu-
lar in misfortune^ by having lost in one day three
admirers of superior merits she would not consent
to bear to the bridal ceremony a heart which most
be consumed by eternal regret ; and that^ as a mo-
nument of her grief^ she intended to compose a lay^
the title of which should be '' Les quatre Dols**
(The four Griefs). The lover, instead of attempting
to argue her out of this resolution, only employs his
eloquence in convincing her that the title of the
new lay ought to be " Le Chaitivel* ' (The Wretch),
because his rivals had found in death the end of
their disappointments, while he was doomed to lead
a life of constant wretchedness and privation. The
lady having assented to this change of title^ the story
is suddenly brought to a conclusion.

No. 11. Chevrefoi), 118 lines.

Our poetess informs us that she has often heard
this lay with infinite delight, but states at the same
time that she had seen it in the written history of
Tristram and Quee^Ysolt. In fact, it is nothing
more than a single adventure in their history, and,
in its unconnected state, would be scarcely intelln

173

gible to the reader^ who will see it to much greatef
advantage in the notes to Mr. Walter Scott*s highly
curious edition of '^ Sir Tristram.*'

No. 12. Eliduc, 1184 lines.

This is stated to be a very old Breton lay. Its
original title^ it seems^ was '' Guildeluec ha Guala-
don," from the names of the two heroines of the
stoiy ; but it was afterwards more commonly styled
the lay of £liduc. It is^ by far, the longest tale in
the whcrie collection, and sufficiently interesting to
deserve a particular description.

Eliduc was a knight of Bretague, much admired
for his military prowess, his courtesy, and his poli-
tical sagacity i in consequence of which his sove-
reign^ who loved and admired him, was in the habit
of intrusting to his sole management the most im-
portant cares of government. Indeed, so great was
his influence at court, that he enjoyed, almost as
completely as the king himself, the privilege of the
chace in the royal forests. But. the favour of
sovereigns is always precarious ; and so adroit
were the enemies of Eliduc, that he was suddenly
deprived of all his honours, and even banished the
country, without being able to obtain fro«i his once
indulgent master the privilege of knowing the
crimes laid to. his charge, or of beinj; confronted

174

with his accusers. Fortunately he was ia the primer
of life, fond of adventure, and not of a temper to
despond. He retired to his castle, oonvdned his
firiends, and communicated to them the kmg's in-
justice, and his own projects j which were, to em-
])afk for England, and there to enter into the pay
of the first king who might want his asfiiatance;
But he had a wife, the fair and amiable Guildeluec,
whom he tenderly loved, -find whom, as he was un-
willing to carry her into e^ple, he .earnestly r^oom-
meiided to their care and attentions. He 'then fte«
lected ten knights as companions of his adventure/
and departed for the sea-coast, escorted by nearly
all bis friends and vassals, and accompanied by hisi
wife, who was almost frandc with grief at this
cruel separation, and whom he could scarcely re*
concile to her £ite by repeating again and again the^
most solemn assurances of his eternal and invic^able
fidelity. At length he embarked with a &ir wind,
and, landing at Totness in Devonshire, proceeded
towards Exeter. The king of this district had an
only daughter, the heiress of his dominions ; and^
having refused to bestow her on a neighbouring
prince, her suitor, was at that time invdved in a
most distressful war, and besieged in hb capital.
Eliduc determined to proceed no furth^ s he sent
a message to the distressed Jdog, ofiering^lus aasist*^

175

ance, and requesting, if the proposal should be re-
jected, a safe-conduct through the country. The
king most gladly accepted the offer, and ordered his
constable to prepare a house for the reception of the
welcome guests, and to issue a suitable sum of
money, together with a supply of provisions for
their monthly expenditure. Eliduc and his atten-
dants were magnificently entertained. His inn was
the house of the richest burgess in the town, and
ike grand tapestry room* was surrendered to the
knight by its proprietor. Eliduc, on his part, wai
equally liberal. He issued strict orders to his at-
tendants, that, during the first forty days, none of
them should accept either pay or provisions from
the court ^ and during this time he kept, at his own
exp^ise, a table pr<^se!y served for the acconamo-
dation <^ such knights as were unprovided with
other means of subsistence. On the third day afW
fais anival an alarm was spread that the enemy had
again over-run the country, and might shortly be
expected at the gates. Eliduc flew to arms ; and,
having assembled his ten knights, was soon after
joined by fourteen more from the different parts of
the city, who declared themselves ready to en-
counter, under his commands, any inequality of

* La bele chambre encurtince
1a ad U ostes deliveree.

numbers* Eliduc praised their 2eal, but observed
that this intemperate valour was more fitted for the
iists of a tournament than for useful service in the
field 5 and requested that they, who knew the
country, would point out some defile in which h^
could hope to attack the enemy on equal termsi
They pointed out a hollow way in the neighbour*
mg forest, by which the invaders usually passed
and returned j and Eliduc, while hastening to the
place^ described to them the measures which he
meant to pursue, and exhorted them to follow him
with vigour. His measures were so well planned
and executed, that tlie foe were surprised while
laden with booty 3 and their commander, with thirty
of his principal officers, was seized on his pal-
frey, and made prisoner almost without resistance^
by this small body of five-and*twenty knights. The
squires and other attendants at the same time se-
cured a large quantity of baggage^ and the troop
immediately hastened their return towards the city,
where however their appearance excited no sipall
consternation. The king, having mounted to a
watch tower, had descried his small garrison of
knights engaged in a distant action with very supe-
rior numbers ; after which, seeing a large body in
full march for the city, he concluded tliat Eliduc
had betrayed him 3 caused the gates to be shut, the

177

alarm to be $ounded> aad coinmamied.the ati^mi
to defend the \i^9. But bcMO^ quickl)^ uodeceivedU
he ivelcomed bis deliverer with transports of jc^^
and gratitude ; and^ aft^ receiving bis daih of alle^
^ancefar ayear> invested him with the supreoie
militaiy command during that period^ and. assigned
ample pensions to himself and all bis attendants.
The king's daughter^ the beautiful Guilliadun, be-
came anxious in ber tUm to behold the extraordi*
naij stranger^ who on the third day after bis arrival
had gained a most important victory^ and had coo*
firmed her £itber in bis throhe> by means of a troopi
of knights who Scarcely appeared CQni|)etent to tha
defence of the walls« She iqvited him to an 'au^-
Once^ to which he was formaUy introduced by one
of her chamberlains; seated htm near ber on a bed ;
and entered with him into conversation on a variety
^indifierent topics^ But during the discourse she
could not help remarking that this consummate
warrior and statesman was a young and handsome
knight ) aad as every fiesh survey of his person led
her to the discovery of some additional merit, she
at length found that her hea^ was completely en-
gaged to him ; and after sighing, and turning pale,
and making many reflections on the indelicacy of
avowing her passion, would probably have revealed
i^ if the knight had not, by respeetfolly taking hi»

tOL. I. H '

17B

\esvt, put an end to the interview. Elidiic^ in the
niedn time, had not l^n blind to the perfections of
the lovely Gmlliadon. Her youth, her beauty, her
simplicity and frankness of character, and, above
all, those artless sighs which assured him of her
afiection, had made an indelible impression on
his heart* At letigth the image of his wife, and his
solemn assurances of fidelity to her, interrupted the
dream of happiness in which he had involuntarily
indulged : but the interruption was now become
painful ; and while he mentally repeated the pro-
mise of adhering to his duty, he felt that the pro-
mise was disavowed by his inclination. Guilliadun,
after a sleepless night, found it impossible to keep
her secret locked up in her ovm bosom, and, having
summoned a trusty chamberkun, confided to him
her sudden, and, as she thought, inexplicable pas-
sion. 'After a long discussion, she at length, at the
suggestion of her counsellor, dispatched him to the
knight with the usual salutations of courtesy, and
with a present of her ring and of a rich girdle.'
Eliduc immediately replied by an equally courteous
message; put the ring on his finger; bound the
. girdle round his loins ; offered a rich present to the
chamberlain, who declined to accept it; but avoided
all discussion on the subject of his message. The
impatient princess was almost driven to despair by

tli& rq^H of her diamberlain^ who^ though cchi-
imed that Eliduc could not be msensible to the
kindness of his mistress^ was unable to satisfy her
mindf or even his own^ concerning the cause of
such extreme discretion. Both, indeed, were ig-
norant of the conflicts by which the unhappy knight
was agitated. To recall his former fondness for his
wife, and to conciliate his duty and affection, was
DO longer possible; to betray and dishonour the
amiable Guilliadun would be in&mous 5 and to
encourage her passion and his own, without being
hurried too €aT, was extremely difficult: yet on this
he ultimately resolved ; and, having mounted his
horse, set off for the palace under pretence of
pe^ng his court to the king, but with the real view
of obtaining an interview with his daughter. For-
tunately the monarch was at that moment in the
apartment of the princess, to whom, while he
{^ed a game of chess with a foreign knight, he
explained the moves of the game. On the entrance
of Eliduc he immediately introduced him to his
daughter, enjoining her to entertain and form an
vcquaintance with a knight who had few equals in
merit ; and the young lady, gladly obeying the in-
junction, retired with her lover to the ferther end
of the apartment. After a long silence, which was
equally painful to both, and which each ineffec*

Isor

tually atteidipted more than once to mteff^pt^ t,\U
dnc luckily bethought himself of returning thanks
for the ring and girdle^ which^ aa he assured her^ h€!
talued hr beyond all his earthly possessioi^. This
warmth of expression encouraging the princess^ she
frankly proceeded to make an avowal of her passion>
declaring that^ if he should reject her hand^ there
was no other man on earth whom she would ev^
accept as a husband ) and when he mysteriously re-
plied that^ so far as his wishes were concerned^
there could be no bar to their usdon^ but that it was
his purpose after the year of service for which he
Was pledged to her father to return and establish
liimself in hi) own country^ she told him that she
had full confidence in his honour^ and was per«
tuaded that when the time arrived he would make
all the prop^ arrangements for her future destiny.
Thus ended their interview to thpir mutual satk-
faction. Eliduc^ watchful^ enterprising, and inde-
fatigable> socm recovered for her Either all the pro*
vinces which had been torn from him, and insured
his future tranquillity by the capture of the king his
enemy -, but scaicely was the war concluded when
the knight received an embassy firom his former
master, whose ingratitude towards him had been
punished by the loss of half the kingdom, and the
jeopardy of the rest> adjuring him tQ come with all
4

181

^peed to the fescue of a country which was now
purged of the monsters whose faUsc accusations had
occasioned his unjust exile. Such an embassy, »
few months socmer^ would have been most wel*
come^ but to part with Guilliadun now appeared to
him die heaviest of misfortunes. He felti how<«
ever, that duty called him away^ and he determined
to obey the smnmons. He went to the king; read
to him the letters which he had received : and ear*
nestly requested leave to depart^ though his stipu**
fated term of service was not expired ; observing at
die same time that the state of his majesty's a&ird
BO longer required his attendance^ and promisiiig
that at the first appearance of difficulty he would
return with a powerftd body of knights to his assist*
ance. The king, after vainly endeavouring by the
most splendid offers to detain him^ unwillingly con-
sented to his departure -, but to obtain the consent
of Guilliadun was far more difficult. Trusting &at
she possessed the whole heart of her lover^ and per*
fecdy unconscious that his hand had been previ-
ously given to another^ she insisted on accompany*
ing him to his own country^ and threatened to
destroy herself in case of his refusal. Her remon*
atrances were accompanied by fainting His, which
terrified Eliduc into a solemn promise of submitting
bio^K to her decision whatever -it might be; but

183

he represented that^ having sworn fealty to the king
her fether^ he could not now take her with him
without a breach of his oath ; whereas, if she would
allow him a respite till after the expiration of his
term of service, he could theii, without disgrace,
comply with her wishes 5 and he promised, on tlie
honour of a knight, that if she would fix a day he
would return and carry her off. With this promise
she was satisfied, and after many tears, and a mutual
exchange of rings, ultimately permitted him to de«
part. The return of Eliduc to his country gave
infinite pleasure to his friends, to the king his
master, and, above all, to his excellent wife, who
now hoped that she should be intlenmified, by the
society of her beloved husband, for her long and
dreary hours of widowhood. ' But she beheld .with
surprise and consteriiation that he harboured some
secret grief, and anxiously inquired if any thing in
her conduct had given him displeasure. Eliduc
assured her of the contrary, but told her in appa-
rent confidence that he was bound by his oath to
return to the king whom he had lately quitted, so
soon as he should have settled the affairs of his own
country ; that he had much to endure, much to
accomplish 5 and that, harassed as he was on all
sides, he should never regain his former gaiety till
he should have extricated hi{n$elf firom al) his diffit

183

culties. In the mean time^ his mere name had im
spired the enemy with alarm ; his reappearance at
the head of the armies brought back victory to the
royal standard ; he saw and seized the moment of
making an advantageous peace ; and> having done
so^ prepared for the execution of a more pleasing
enterprise. Taking with him only his two*nephew8,
a. chamberlain already privy to his amour^ and a
trusty squire^ all of whom he swore to secrecy^ bt
embarked for Loegria 5 stationed his vessel at some
distance from the harbour of Totness 5 and^ landing
his chamberlain alone and in disguise^ sent him with
secret instructions to the princess. The confideiit
executed his commission with address ; made hi^
way unobserved to the chamber of Guilliadun^ iq*
formed her of his master's arrival^ and explained to
her the measures which be had devised for her
escape. They waited for the approach of night ;
when Guilliadun without any otlier attendant^
having muffled herself in a short and warm mantle>
which concealed the richness of her usual garments^
followed the chamberlain out of the town to a so^all
wOod^ where Eliduc^ who had deferred his landing
till the evening, waited to receive her. The knight
instantly placing her on a horse^ springing on
another^ and taking her rein in his hand, hurried
forward to the sea^ and embarked without having

184

excited the slightest suspicion of ihe enterprise, H
which none were privy excepting those actually oil
board. Both wind and tide were favourable ; they
trrived near the coast gf Bretagne, and were on the
point of entering the harix)ur^ wh^i a sudden squaU
from tl^e shore split tiieir mast, rent their sail/ and
exposed them ior some hours to die most imnuneot
danger. All their exertions to guide the vessel
i)eing in^flectual, they had recourse to prayers^ in^
voking St. Nicholas and St. Clement, and request-
ing the intercession of the blessed Virgin with her
'son, that they might be permitted to land in safety.
The storm still continued ', when one c^the sailors
"suddenly exclaimed, *^ Sir knight, you carry wiA
you the cause of our calamity. In defiance of God,
of religion, of justice, and of honour, you are carr
rying off that lady, having already a beautiful and
lawful wife in your own country. Permit us to
throw your paramour into the sea, and we shall
speedily find our prayers effectual.** The jMin-
cess was then lying, almost exhausted with filtigue,
sickness, and fear, in the arms of her lover, who
therefore, though bursting witl| rage, could only
express it by execrations, which he vented as loudly
as he could in the hope of drowning the hatefiil
voice of the mariner. But the fetal assurance
*^ that Eliduc was already ni^rried,** h^ reached the

t8S

suak deeply into the heart of Guilliadus^
Siie feinted $ and thougii her lover and his frtendi
employed bH the means in their power for her reco-
v&ry, they wet« unable to produce any symptom of
retuittifig animatioa. A general exckttiatkxi of
grief pronoanced her dead^ when the knight;
itarting ^om the body» seieed an oar> felled at one
Mow the presumptootts seaman, threw him by the
foot iato the sea, took possession of the helm, and
directed it so ^Ifblly that the vessel soon ^%er
reached the harbour in safety. They all landed^
and in a very few hours might reach the castle of
Eikiuc, which was not far from the coast; but
where could he deposit the body of his nustress ?
how inter it with all the honours suitable to her
rank and merit ? He at length recollected that im
the forest wl»ch surrounded his mansion dwelt aa
^iged hermit, at whose cell the oorpfse might tem^
till its interment: he could then enjoy the sad
pleasure of visiting daily the object of all his soli*
cttude ; and he determined to found on the ^)0t am
abb^, in which a number of monks should pray for
ever for the soul of the loVely and injured GrUlUir
ladon. He then mounted his palfrey, and, canyiag
Ihe hody in his arms, proceeded with his attendantB
to the hermitage. The door was shut; and thejr
{Sisppyavpd, after having at length procured a^ ea*

186

trance^ the grave of the holy.mah^ who had expired
a few days before. Eliduc caused a bed to be made
within the chapel ; and placing on it his mistress,
whose deadly paleness had not yet injmred her
beauty^ he burst into a flood of tears^ kissed her
lips and eyes as if in the hopes of restoring thetf
animaticm^ and solemnly pronounced a tow that
from the date of her interment he would nevei
more exercise the functions of a knight> but, after
having erected an abbey on the spot sanctified by
her remains, would himself assume the monastic
habit, and daily vbit her tomb to express his love>
his grief, and his remorse. He then with difficulty
tore himself from the body and departed ; having
first sent a messenger to his castle to announce that
he was arrived, but so much fatigued ai^ way-*
Worn as to require nothing but repose and solitudes
His wife met him with her usual gentleness of
affection ; but she instantly saw in his hajggard looks
that his heart laboured with some misery which her
tenderness was unable to remove. His mahnen
were such as to awaken without satisfying her
curiosity. He rose at day-break, spent some hours
at prayers, walked alone into the forest, proceeded
instinctively to the ^tal hermitage, and returned
late in the evening, bearing with him, as it ap%
peared> an increased load of misery. I^e saw with

187

astonishment that death seemed to abstain from,
ravaging the beauties of Guilliadun ; he involun^
tarily gave way to the most flattering hopes ; and
after many long sad hours of tears and fruitiest
prayer retired in anguish and disappointment. On
the third day he gave notice that he should go to
court and pass tiie evening with the king. His
wife^ in the mean lime^ by the promise of the mosSt
tempting rewards^ had engaged one of her pages to
follow his master at a distance during his forest*
walk> and to report what he should see and hear;,
and the page having on that morning executed his
commission^ she determined to take advantage o£
£liduc*s absence^ to visit the hermitage^ and to dis-^
cover, if possible, the cause of that excessive grief
to which he gave way, and of which the death of
the old hermit, much as her husband miglit have,
loved him, was far from afibrding a sati^actory eat*
planation. She set forth with the page, entered the
chapel, beheld with much surprise a bed handr
somely ornamented, and, on lifting up the covering,i
saw, with still more astonishment, the young and
blooming Guilliadun, *' qui resemhlot rose nuvele,**
The faultless beauty of a living rival might have
incited some indignation in the bosom of the most
patient wife : but the eyes of the lovely object be-
fore her appeared to be closed for evei:j and GuU*

188

dehice could find no place in her heart for atij
sentiments but those of admiration and compassion.
After calhT^ her page to survey the spectacle \^toh
fully explained and excused her hu^iand's imnio^
^rate grief^ she sat down by the bed to reflect on
the past^ and to decide on her own future conduct
Dui'ing the long absence of Eliduc she had devoted
the greater part of her time to religious exercises;
and she now clearly S9w that to them only could
she kx)k for ccm^ort. Haying convinced herself
of this necessity^ she turned wilii tears in her eye$
to the fair object of her husband's regret ; when a
circumstance apparently trifling i^rohmtarily ar-
rested her attention. A weasel, areepkig from
vnder the altar^ ran upon the bed^ and^ passing
iieveral times over the face of the entrSmced Guil-
tmdun^ 90 far incensed the page that with a blow of
hfs stick he laid it dead at his feet, and thentfarevr
it on the middle of the floor. Ihe animal had lain
there only a few moments, wham another weasel
coming firoin the same hole ran up to rts slaughtered
companion, attempted for a while to sport with it,
and then, after exhibiting every appearance of
grief, suddenly ran off into the wood, and return-
ed with a flower of a beautiful vermilion colour,
which she carefully inserted into the mouth of the
jdead animal. The efiS^t of ^e application was 91$

i8d

tudden tfeat the weasel instantaneously got upon its
legs, and was preparing to escape 5 when the lady j
excl^nied to the page to strike again, and he aimed
a second blow, which caused the creature to drop
the flower, that Guildeluce instantly seized, and
carefully placed between the lips of Guilliadun.
llie plant had not lost its efHcacy. The princess^
awakening from her prance, expressed her surprise
at having slept so long, and then gazed with astot
nishment at the bed on which she lay, at the walls
of the diapel fay which she was surrounded, and at
the two unknown figures of Guildeluce and the
pBge, who kneeling l)y her side loudly expressed
their thanksgivings to the Almighty for what they
thought her miraculous resurrection. At length
the good lady, having finished her devotions, be-
gan to question the fair stranger respecting her
birth and preceding adventures, which she related
with the utmost candour and exactness, till the
fatal moment when the discovery of Eliduc's prior
marriage had deprived her of sense and motion.
The rest was better known to her hearers than
to herself} and Guildeluce, more and more charmed
with her innocence and frankness, after avowing
herself to be her rival, lost no time in comforting
her by the assurance that all her , hopes and
wishes might now be speedily gratified. " Youf
youthful beauty^** said she^ '^ might captivate any

igo

hearty and your meiit will £x for ever that of
Elidnc^ who is unalterably attached to you^ and
whose grief for your loss was such as to preclude
all hope of consolation. It is my intention to
take the veil^ and to abandon all claim to those
affections which are estranged from me for ever.
In carrying you with me, and restoring you to
the now wretched Eliduc, I shall promote^ by
the only mean& in my power> thak happiness to
which I have hithdto been the unintentional ob-^
stacle.** Guilliadun consented, with silent gratis
tude, to accept the sacrifice so generously offered
by her rival 5 and was united to her lover as soon
as the solemn ceremony had taken place, by which
Guildeluce agreed to consecrate the remainder of
her days to heaven, in a nunnery 'which was
erected and endowed by her husband, on the site
of the antient hermitage. Their union was fol*
lowed by many years of happiness 5 and they closed
a life employed in constant acts of charity and be-
nevolence, by following the pious example of
Guildeluce, who received Guilliadun into her order,
while Eliduc took the cowl in a monastery, to the
endowment of which he dedicated the remainder
of his worldly possessions. From the adventure of
these three, " the olde gentil Britons" (/i auncien
Brctun curteis) formed a lay to transnr/it it to future

ROMANCES

RELATING TO ARTHUR.

Although this class of romances was formerly
the most numerous^ its metrical remains^ excepting
such as have been preserved in the form of ballads^
are now extremely scanty. This indeed might have
been expected -, because, when ^l metre began to
be considered as the vehicle of fiction, it was likely
that the favourite story of Arthur would be the first
to be turned into prose, for the purpose of , establish-
ing its authority beyond all dispute. On the other
hand, as the art of reading made ,a slow progress
amongst the vulgar, it was natural that parts of the
metricaA tale should be detached for their use, and,
in the shape of songs, be committed to oral tradi-
tion. Mr. Warton, however, has ^ven us an ex-
.tract from the 5/. Graal, a metrical^aig^me7i^,.said
to consist of 40,000 lines, composed in .die ]:eign of
Henry VI. by Thomas Lonelich 5 and in the same
reign Robert de Thornton is supposed to have
written the romance of Percyvell of Galles, which is
VOL. I. o

still preserved in the library of Lincoln cathedral.
Concerning the former it is difficult to feel much
interest, aft^r perusing the deplorably dull extract
given by Mr. Warton; and of the second I have
been unable to procure a transcript

The tale of Merlin was perhaps at first nothing
more than part of the Brut, as composed either by
Gaimar or by Wace i in which shape it was cer-
tainly, as the French writers generally describe itj,
the most antient of all the romances ^ but the im-
mediate original from which our English translatioa
was made must have undergone many interpo-
lations, because it contains a variety of fabulous
matter which had not found its way into the history
of Geoffrey of Monmouth.

The following abstract was made from a tran«
script of the MS» No. 150, in the library of Lin-
coln*s lonf and so^le deficiencies were afi:er wards
suppliedi by the kindness of my firiend Mr. Walter
Scott, from the more antient and perfect copy in
the Auchinleck MS* The romance of Merlin is
mentioned among the contents of Bishop Percy's
fnirious folio. See introduction to the third volume
of- Reliques of Eiiglish Poetry.

195r

MERLIN,

PART I.

— - ^ '•

1 HERB was once in Britain a king M^ho^ie' xlaine
was Constans*. In his youth he had been distitl^
guished by his wisdom and valour^ having iiesisted>
and finally driven out of his comitry, kkig IT^tfgitft
of Denmark and his whole army of Saracens, lliis
king had three sons^ Constantine^ Aurelius Ava-
brosius^ and'Uther Pendragon^ of whona the elder*,
preferring the tranquillity of a cloister to the cares
of empire, had taken the cowl at Winchester, and
was generally known by the name of Le Mbine.

Constans being attacked by z mortal disease, and
finding his death approaching, sunmioned his ba-
rons, thanked them for their faithflil services, and
earnestly requested that they would transfer to hh
son tliat allegiance which had hitherto insured the
independence of their country. They contested';
and immediately afler the funeral, which took pl^tce
at Winchester; Constantine w^s t^en' ii^ his
coQveqt, and vested with the insignia of royalty.

** Brmher of Auldran, ting of Britany. For his history

tee the abrid^eat of Geoffrey, of Moamouth in the third

•ectkMi of the Introductittd.

1 96 MERLIir^ )>ART I.

Among those who had appeared to assent^ with
the greatest readiness^ to the wishes of the dying
monarchy was Sir Vortigem his steward ; a man of
some abilities, who had c(»mnanded the British
armies withjconduct and success; but who had
long cherished the most criminal ambition^ and now
determined to pave his way to the crown^ thou^
at the expense of the liberties and happiness of his
country. He did not long wait for an opportunity
of gratifying his wishes*

Hengist had no sooner learned the death lof
Constans^ and the nomination of his monkish sue-
cessor^ than he sent

After many Saracen * stout and 8tark>
Of Saxoyne^ and of Denmark^

and in a short time invaded Britain with an army
:c£ an hundred thousand men4 The. unwarlike
.Constantine immediatdy flew to Vortigem^ and
•earnestly conjured him to take the command of the
British forces j but the,'* traitour. strong" pre-
tended sickness^ and declared that age and infirmi-
ties had rendered him incapable .of bearipg the

* This word, during the middle ages, was' indiscrimi-
nately applied to Pagans and Mahometans; in short, to aH
nations (except the Jews) who did not profess C^uistiaiuty^

iatigues'of a campaign. The unfortunate Constan-
tine^ being thus left to his own resources^ issued
his orders^ hastily assembled an army, led them as
hastily agdnst the enemy^ and experienced a total

and ruinous defeat .'.

Britain was at that time governed, by a number of
petty kings^ whom die talents of Constatis had united
in a general con^eracy, and who> accustomed to
/ constant succ^ while -fighting under his .banners^
felt with general- Indignatibn thi>$ un^xp^cted re«
verse of fortune^' All concurred in attributing their
defeat to the incapacity of th^ .wretched monk
whom they had ^ hastily iavested with the sove-
reignty j all jBgceed, .that, aft^r the death of Con-
stans, Vortigeoi alone^.the companion of his victo-
ries^ was £tted to J^d.tbe British princes in battle :
to VcHligem^ therefore, they :sent\^a iembassy of
twelve of their number^ invitipg bifH to. assist them
with his aim an4 this counsel io repairing their late
disgrace. .«,. . ; ;_; ^ . . .. •

The trafty . steward received the ambassadors
with every demonstration of respect, but affected
the utmost surprise at the Subject of their applica-
Hionr

Tho beSpakfe hirii Fortagef , "

Good knightsliardy, and parterier.

« ■

'' I a*am neither four di]L|Le ne kifig !
^* Why owe ye me counselliog ?
^' King Ck>B$tans I was to swore ;
^' Ever I ^G|ras you^ tha> tofi>se !
'' And wered* you, with myfiow^r,
** Wide and sidef, &r and near !
'' With me is it iiought BOW so :
'' Wberefi>re, to your king ye go,
** Beseech hii^ he you suocodr,
'^ Afid ye will him th^ honoiir/'

Tho bespake him a baioun,
*^ Sir, our king is but a aftofoun'^ I
** Tho he saw swordes draw,
'^ To flee soon he was weliyii«c^§.
" He can no counsel to no good ;
^^ He is so adrad || he is nigh wood^."<«-
I *lwe** it well," quoth Fprtagers,

Will I me potbing aventdre

To purchase a fool great hon6ur !

Gif Moyne your king dead were,
'^ Ich would you helpen out of qar^"

f far and wide.— The word side is nearly wynonyvOiiQ
with lojig ; side-sleeves a^. long sleeves.
\ a coward, cordon Fr. § glad. H fri^tenec

^ mad. •♦ believe.

MERLIN^ PARt 1; 199

This hi|it was not lost Upon the ambassadors. On
their return to the confederates they tbnnd the un-
fortunatie king at dinner in his hall^ and^ riishing on
him miexpectedly^ dispersed his attendadts^ killed
him^ and cut off his head.

An act of violence so sudden and linespected ex-
cited very general surprite and itidignatioii -, but the
iassassins^ afl6r effecting tbeir pui^s^^ had itistan'tlj
made their escape, l^e danger of leaving the throng
vacant^ while Hengist was at the head of A v\cto^
rious arin^^ ^^as evident and pressing ; the infancy
iof Uther and Ambrosius precluded their n6mina<-
tion^ and there femalaed ho cdmpetitdr whos^
knilitary talents coiild be cbmpdred to tho^ of Vor-
tigei-n. This chief> therefore, ^as elected without
bppoditidti, and grabiously accepted the commatiA
amidst the shouts o£ th^ army. Af^er corivenicrg
his parliameht> his first bbject ^^ik t6 secfur^ the
guardianship of the young princes 3 but tv^o ^tthfM
barons, foreseeing this design, had taken advantage
of the confusion attending the ^mirder of the latb
king, and had conveyed into Britany the hitenkfed
victims of his ambition.

Vortigem, though much disappoirtted, was^ forced
to suspend his feelings for the pr^nt, an'df to' tadce
such measures as might justify die choice of thife
nation. He assembled hrs arifny, marctedr against

900 JKERLIK^ PARTH

H^ngist^ checked his career of victoty> routed Him
in a general engagement, drove him from post td-
post, and, finally, enveloped the Saxon forces so
completely, that they were glad to purchase, their
safety by, the express stipulation that they should
embark fi)r Germany, and bind themselves to
abstain from all future attempts on the tenitoiy
of Britain. Vortigem returned in triumph, and
Held a solemn festival in honour of his victory.

On this occasion the assassins of the late king,
id whbm the new sovereign was indebted for his
elevation, came forward to claim the reward of
•their action. But Vortigjem, though he had ap-
proved the removal oi his rival, did not wish to
establish a precedent of which he might, in his turn,
become the victim ; he therefore ordered the im<-
mediate punishment of the claimants, whose guilt
was fully established by their owh'coti£^i6n. Thejr
Were instantly drawn asunder by hcrsec^, and their
inangled remain^ puUicly hangedr' Unfortunately
for him the culprits were men of rank,.' and who
bad extensive and powerful connexions : iheir exe-
cution therefore became the signal of a general
insurrection; the royal forces were repeatedly van-
quished by the rebels 5 and Vortigem, after gaining
•the crown by a^ series of treachery, was on the point
of losing it by an act of justice, when he bet))ou^t
6

MfiRXIK^ PART n 201

fahnself of appljong fen: assistance to Hengist. Hie
arrival of the Saxons^ who gladly obeyed the first
summons, instantly turned the scale of victory ; the
confederate Britons fled in every encounter; and
ybrtigem, restored to all his power, felt the
warmest gratitude for hi^ deliverer, which was soon
strengthened by another and stronger passion.

Angys had, verament,
• A daughter l)oth fair and gent ;
Ac* she was heathen Sarazine :
And Fortiger, for love flue.
Her took to fere and to wife.
And was cursed in all his life !
For he let Christian wed heathen,
- ' And meynt our l)lood, als flesh and maikenf. !
Many thousand was swithe in wedlock,
Als we flnd written in book.
Ther was nigh all this land
To the devil gove in hand !
Feasts hi made, great and fele {,
And hadden all worldes weal.
And held no better law
Than the hound with his feldwe !
This^Ubldd well fele year-^

.'•■

* Bulk f maggots ? A S. and Dutch.

t many.

^02 MEULIN> PART f *

. But .tyranta> though they may repress^ cto $ e.l^
dom stifle the voice of conscieace > and Yottigenl
was;doofned to feel that neither the success t)f his
BTms, nor the reiooYal of all his rivals> nor the
power of. his aily^ coiild give him that securil^
which could only result ^om a confidence in the
affections of his people. Persecuted by cbntinuri
distrust and anxiety, he determined to construct an
impregnable fortress^ in whicli he might defy all
attempts of his enemies, and feel secure against the
machinations of the malcontents, the possible infl<*
delity of his allies, and the probable invasion 6f the
young princes, Uther and Ambrosius, whose pre-
tensions to the crown might perhaps be«iippprted
by a large army frotti Britany*

Having made these sage refiectionsi he pitched
Upon a proper spotj a ciommanding eminehce on
Salisbury plain, traced out th^ plan of the fortifi-
cations, and, haviilg asseinbled fifteen thousand
masons and carpenters, ordered th^m to plroce^ in
the work with all possible dispatch; The order was
punctually obeyed. /The ground wrfs eica^ated,
the foundation laid, and^ before the end of th^ day,
a wall of prodigious thickness, and already bl'east-
high, indicated the formidabie extent bi the fiiture
castle. But When the workmen returned on the
next mdrnfng to their faHi^s thej wertJ ndt a little
surprised to find the gttiftthd perfectly levelled, so

MEHLIN^ PART !• $03

that the trace of their labour was only visible
from the heaps of lime and stone> the remnants of
the wall^ which lay on each side of the former
trench. After rubbing their eyes, to satisfy them*
aehres that they were awake, they exerted all their
sagacity in attempting to penetrate the cause of this
mystery ', but finding that, after all their conjec-
tures, the intended castle retained the same unpro-
mising appearance, they began to remove the rub-
bish, dug the foundations anew, placed every stone
with the most scrupulous care, and retired to rest,
exhausted by fatigue, and at a later hour than usual,
but exulting in the conviption that the mischief of
the preceding night was perfectly repaired.

Their triumph was of short duration. They re-
turned in the morning, and perceived that the wall
was again obliterated. It was now hc^eless to in-
quire whether the evil arose from the obstinate na-
ture of the soil, or from a secret antipathy of the
■tone and mortar : in either case no coalition could
be expected from argument) and experience had
now frilly proved that any attempt to reconcile them
by force was no less desperate. The case therefore
was referred to Vortigern, and by him to his astro-
logers, whom he commanded, on pain of death, to
discover why his castle reftised to be constructed on
Salisbury plain.

9M MEELIN^ FART la

The wise^men^ thus menaced^ consulted the fir->
mament^ and disc9vered^ by the aspect of the stars,,
that a boy had been born, five years be^sre, without,
the intervention of man. Tliey assured the king,
that, if he could discover this boy, put him to death,
and besmear with his blood the foundations of his
fortress^ U might be erected without any further
difficulty. Vortigem, though he saw no reason,
for doubting the efficacy of the receipt, did not im-
plicitly believe in the eiiistence of such a boy ^ he
therefore dispatched a njumber of messengers into
all parts of England in search of this prodigy, but
detained the wise men in prison, assuring them
that, if the child were not discovered, their blood
should pay the penalty.

Iii. this place our author, being, aware that hi&
hearers may grow impatient for the appearance of
the great personage whose adventures he has under^
taken to relate, leaves the wise men in their prison^
and the messengers on their road, and enters upon
a mystical dissertation preparatory to the birth of
Merlin. He informs us, on the authority of ^' David
the prophet, and of Moses," that the greater
part of the angels who rebelled un^er the conompnd
of Lucifer, lost through that act their former pow-
der and beauty, and became "fiendes black j" but,
that some, instead of falling into '" Hell-pit," had

MfiRLIK^ PART I. £K)5

i'iemamed in mld-aio where they still possess the
bcolty of assuming any shape which may tend to
promote their wicked purpose of tempting and
perverting mankind. They had been^ as we m^ly
easily believe, much disccmcerted by the miracu-
lous birdi of our Saviour 3 but tliey hoped to coun«
teract its salutary purposes by engendering, with
some virgin, a semi-dsemon^ whose praetematural
power should be constantly employed in the disse*
inination of wickedness. Such was their project.
We shall now see the means to which they resorted
for promoting its success, and the events which
led taits £nal discomfiture. «

There was at that time in England a rich man,
blessed with an affectionate wife, a dutiful son,
and three chaste and beautiful daughters. The hap-
piness of this family was become proverbial among
their neighbours j but the fiend having discovered,
in the wife, an irritability of temper which had

' * Thb idea of <:aco*daemons inhabiting thie mid'Oirf U
tvidendy taken from Geoffirey of Monmouth's Fita Mer-
lim, where the doctrine is thus delivered by Taliessin :
£t sibi multotiens ex dere corpore sumpto
Nobis apparent^ et plurima saepe sequuntur ;
Quin etiam coitu mtilieres a^ediuntur,
Si/achmt gravidas, generanUs more profario.

hitfaerto escaped the notice c€ her hofeband and
children^ he applied himself to eneoonige' this
infirmity ; and with such success> tha£ the geod
lady, having been betrayed' into a^^fling di^wte
with her son« suddenly blirst into tran^rts of
n^ ; imprecated the most horrid ciirses^ on his
hesad; and finally consigned him, with' sdl possible
solemnity, to the devil. The fiend lost no time in
seizing his newly-acquired property, but stranded
the young man in his s]eep : the mother^ stung with
remorse, instantly bung herself ^ and her husband,
overpowered by this sudden calamity, ctied of s;rie^
without confession or absolution.

Among the spectators of this tragedy was a
neighbouring hermit^ the holy Blaise, who, oncon-*-
sidering all the circumstances' of the case, plainly
discovered that it was owing to the intervention of
the fiend. Feeling a fatherly afiection for the three
orphan sis(ers> he exhorted them to scrutinize se^
verely all the thoughts and actions of their past life;
received their confessions ; imposed on each a pro-
per penance ; gave them his holy absolution ; atid
then retired to his cell, in the confidence of having
secured them against future temptation^

Before we proceed with our story, it will be
proper to mention a singular law of this -country.

In all England, iho *, was usage,
Gif any woman did outrage,
(But gif it were in spousing)
And any man, old or yitig,
Might it wite^ of tliat country.
All quick X heo^ shoulde dohen\\hf,
But she were light woman told^
To all that to lier ask would**.

On this sanguinary law the deyil founded his
plan for the destruction of the two elder sisters.
He repaired, in a proper disguise, to an old woman,
with whose avarice and cunning he was well ac-
quainted;^ and engaged, her, by promises of the
most extravagant reward, to attempt the seduction
of the eldest sister, whom he was prevented from
assailing in person by the precautions of the holy
hermit. The old hag readily undertook the com-
mission.

To the eldest, sister heo said,
" Alas, my sweet dear maid,

• then. t ^ovr. J alive. § she. || buried;

5 proclaimed as a prostitute to all who chose to haniie
commerce with her.

*f I know, of no authority for this strange clause. That
among the Britons an unmarried woman coavicted of in-
continence was doomed to be thrown down a precipice,
and that by the Saxon law she was liable (as here stated) to
be buried alive, is asserted in Jocelin*6 Lifedf St. Kente^ern.

909 MERLIN^ PART I«

'' Thou hast feir feet and hond^

*' Gentil body for to fond*,

'' White stvire f , and long arm j

^' Ywis J it is much harm

*' That thy body ne might assay

'' With some young man for to play,

" That thee might find, in every case^

" Game and mirth, and great solace !"

To these solicitations the young lady imibrtu-
nately neglected to make any objection except the
danger of a discovery; which being quickly over-
ruled, she yielded to temptation, was betrayed,
condemned, and buried alive. The next sister
opposed still less resistance to the artifices of the
'fiend J but escaped the penalty of the lawbyreadfly
submitting to indiscriminate prostitution.

It is evident that the holy Blaise had been too
negligent of his charge ; but his whole attenfion
was roused by the arrival of the younger sister,
who, falling at his feet, and reminding him of the
$ad fete of her father, mother and brother, proceed-*
-ed to relate the public punishment c^x>ne sister and
the public disgrace of the olher. • Blaise was filled
with compassion; he felt also that his character
was staked, and that he was now fairly at issue

* foodie. . . f neck. | certainly. .

MERLIN, PART I. 209

with the fiend for the soul of this maiden. He
thierefore took every possible precaution j enjoiped
her strict observance of his directions with unusual
solemnity j displayed the dangers attendant on the
seven deadly shis, and particularly warned her
against the most formidable of all, the sin of in-
continence :—

Bade her heo should nim keep *,

That heo ne laid her nought to sleep.

And, namely, nought at night.

But heo hadde candle-light.

And windoM's and doors, in that stound,

VVeren sperd f , by roo^ and ground.

" And make, there again, with good voice

" The sign of the holy croisl.
Bid § him, that he warrant be
Again the fiend, and his pouste\\,**

€€

Armed with these instructions, the maid re-
lumed home 3 watched and prayed with great re-
gularity 5 and, under the protection of the holy
sign, which effectually guarded her doors and win-
dows, escaped for some time the artifices of the
tempter. But at length her security betrayed her.

* Take care : rdm or nym is to take ; and keep is guard,
t Speared, i. e. pegged; fastened. \ crow. Fr.

§ Pray. y power— Fr. jpofwios, Lat.

VOL. I. F

$10 MEnhtS, PARTl.

The solicitations of some neighbours dre^ her to
the ale*', her stay was insensibly protracted; the
treacherous liquor, produced intoxication ; and in
this state she was assaulted by her wicked sister^
who, attended by a troop of loose ^omen, proceed-*
ed to insult and even to strike her. The abuse
was re-echoed j the blow returned j and a general
conflict ensued, from which she at length escaped
into her house, which she carefully barred and se-
cured, but in her agitation forgot to say her pray-
ers, or to make the sign of the cross ; and, throwing
herself on her bed, resigned herself to sleep. The
fiend, no longer stopped by the formidable barrier
which had hitherto excluded him, easily insinuated
himself into the room, assumed a human shape, -
completed his long intended purpose, and retired.

On the following morning his unfortunate victim
hastened to her confessor y related^ with much
contrition, the disgraceful quarrel in which she had
been engaged -, deplored her neglect of his in-
structions ; and finally communicated to him some
reasons for suspecting that this neglect had been
productive of consequences which might lead, on
their discover}', to her disgi-ace and punishment.
The good hennit listened to her narrative with
great attention; deeply lamented her carelessness

* ale-house.

MTERLIN, fART r* 211

and the watchful activity of the fiend 5 gave her
his benediction> and dismissed her with the pro-*
mise that he would employ all the means in his
power to preserve her from the fate by which she
was threatened.

From this moment her hours were solely oocu«>
pied by penitence and devotion 5 but her pregnancy-
becoming manifest^ she was at length seized and
carried before the justice. Her protestations of
innocence were, of course> disbelieved *j a jury
of matrons solemnly convened on the occasion de-
clared, on their own knowledge, that her assevera-*
tions were perfectly incompatible with the sym-
ptoms she discovered j and the jtjstice was proceed-
ing to pass sentence, when Blaise interposed and
petitioned for a delay of her punishment. He
observed that, whatever might be the guilt of the

* It may be presumed, however, from a passage in Joce-
lin*s Life of St. Kentegem, that the British virgins were
Very subject to accidents, though theil* mental purity
was not thereby impaired. TTie author says, ** Audivi-
mus frequenter sumptis transfigiis puellarem pudicitiam
expugnatkm esse, ipsamque defloratam corruptorem sul
minime nosse. Potuit aliquid hvjvsmodi huic puelUe acci-
disse, &c." The birth of St. Kentegem was, in some re-
q>edb, very similar to that of Merlin; and so was, accord-
ing to the editor, that of St. David. Pinkerton*8 Vitae an-
tiqux, &c« p. 200.

Ql^ MERLIN^ PART U

mother^ her child was assuredly innocent^ and cdtt^
sequently that- her death must be deferred till after
her delivery; that the story told byjt^ supposed
culprit was indeed very wonderful ; but that he, to
whom it had been solemnly revealed in confession,
believed it to be true, that some mystery was con-
cealed under it which time would probably mani-^
fest: and therefore he advised that a respite of
two years should be allowed, during which the
woman should be strictly confined, in the hopes
of discovering the truth of her narrative. The
justice yielded to this advice, and ordered her to
be carefully guarded, with no companion but a
midwife, in the upper room of a lofty tower, in
which they received a daily supply of provisions
by means of a Icmg rope and basket.

In due time the giii was delivered of a son,
whose fine features and well formed limbs excited
the admiration of the midwife, though his diaboli-
cal origin was evinced by a complete covering of
black hair, which she coi^<^ not touch without
shuddering. The pious Blaise, who had exactly
calculated the time of the little daemon's birth, was
in waiting at the foot of the tower, and, being
informed of the event, ordered the infant to be
lowered in the basket; bore him away in triumph
to the sacred fbntf baptized him by the&ame of

MERLIN^ PART 1. 213

Merlin j and thus disappoined for ever the hopes
of the fiends^ at the very moment of their expected
completion.

The good man then returned with his infernal
proselyte, and restored him by means of the basket
to the midwife ; who carrying him to the fire, and
surveying his rough hide with horror and astonish-
ment, could not refrain from reproaching him for
his unreasonable choice of a mother who had never
taken the usual means to have a child.

'^ Alas," she said, ^^art thou Merlin ?

'' Whether * art thou ? and of what kin ?

*' Who was thy father, by night or day,

*^ That no man wite ne may ?

'^ It is great ruth, thou foul thing,

*' That for thy love {by Heaven's King !) .

'' Thy mother shall be slain with woe !

*' Alas that staund f it shall &11 so !

^' I would thou were £u: in the sea,

" With that thy mother might scape free !"

When that he heard her speak so,

Jle hrayed % up his eyen two.

And lodly § on her gan look.

And his head on her he shook,

* Whence. f time.

I raised suddenly— -witji a start. Sa». § loathingly.

S14 MERLIN^ PAKT I.

And gan to cry with loud din j • -

" Thou lyest !'* he said, " old queafi * J
*^ My mother shall no man guell f ,
'^ For no thing that man may tell,
" While that I may stand or gon !
" Maugr6 hem every ope
" I shall save her life for this.
" That thou shalt hear snd see, ywis."

Both the mother and the midwife were very near
dying of fright while tliey listened to these en-
couraging assurances. They crossed tliemselves,
and, at lengtli resuming courage, conjured him, in
the name of God and the Virgin, and of as many
saints as they were able to recollect, that he would
declare who he was, and what misadventure had
brought him thither: but Merlin, who was not
naturally loquacious, only smiled at their questions,
and abstained from gratifying their curiosity.- In
this silence he obstinately persevered during six
montlis, when the lamentations of his motiier ex-?

* A similar instance is recorded in the Life of St. Ninian:
'* At sanctus, silentium impcrans plebi, jubet slbi puerum
prsesentari non nisi wHiai nottis cttatem habentem. — Ex
infantili itaque cotpore vox virilis insonuit; lingua ineni-
dita rationabilia verba formavit, &c." Pinkerton*8 Vits
antiquas Sanctorum, &c. p. 10.

MERLIN, PART !♦ 211

torted from him a second promise of his protec-
tion 5 by which she was so far satisfied as to await
with some degree of confidence the final decision
of the justice.

The two years being expired, she appeared in
court with her child in her arms ; listened in silence
to the interrogatories which she had formerly
answered, and even abstained from protesting
against the sentence which condemned her to be
buried alive. But her infant, to the great surprise
of all present, undertook her defence, alleging
that her pregnancy was the result of a chance which
neither man nor woman could prevent. Such ar\
argument was certainly not convincing; and the
justice, happening to feel offended by the premature
eloquence of the young advocate, only replied by
confirming the sentence and ordering the culprit to
instant execution. But Merlin was not dismayed.
He proceeded to tell that he was the son of a devil
of great power, though fortunately rescued by an
expeditious baptism from the vicious disposition of
his paternal relations ; that he could prove his prae-
tematural descent by revealing all things past,
present, or future ^ and that the justice was in this
respect very much his inferior, as he did not even
know the name of his own father. The justice^
not much conciliated by this speech^ answered.

316 MERLIN^ PART I.

'^ Thouliest, thou black conioun !

'^ My father ivas a good baroun^

" And my mother a levedy free :

^' Yet alive thou may her see/* '

Merlin calmly desired that the lady might be
summoned 5 and, on her appearance in courts being
urged to state his accusation^ requested that they
might be confronted in private, because such a
subject was not fit for public discussion. The
justice, a good deal surprised at his discretion,
readily consented.

'^ Merlin," be said, *' now pray I thee,
'* What was the man that begat m? r"
*' Sir,'* he said, " by St. Simoun!
'* It was the parson of this town.
He begat thee, by St. Jame !
Upon this woman that is thy dame."
Tlie levedy said, ^' Thou foul thing,
*^ Thou hast hwen a stark lesing* !
'^ His ^ther was a noble baroun,
'^ And holden a man of great renown 3
" And thou a mis-begotten wretch !
*' I pray to God the de'el thee fetch !
^ In wild fire thou shouldest be hrent f ,
" For with wrong thou hast me shent J !"

* lyed a strong lie. f burnt. \ ruined.

MEKtlN^ PART I. ^17

Merlin quietly answered, that, as her memory
seemed rather defective, he would willingly assist
it by relating a few circumstances of her past life.
He put her in mind of a certain journey to Carduel,
from whence the baron returned rather unex^
pectedly in the night :— -

*' It was by night and not by day 5
'•' The parson in thy bed lay 5
^* At thy chamber door thy lord gan knock j
*^ And thou dlddest on thy smock,
^^ And were sore afraid that tide * !
'* And undiddest a window wide,
" And there the parson thou out let,
'' And he ran away full sket-f,
'* Dame,*' he said, " that ilke % night
Was begot thy son the knight.
D^me," heo said, '^ lie I ought ?"
And heo stood still and said nought.

The justice, to whom this recital, tibough per-r
fectly new, did not appear at all amusing, im-
patiently expected from his mother a refutation of
the charge ; but the lady was satisfied to purchase
Merlin's silence by a candid confession. She was
therefore dismissed with a severe reprimand 3 after

• time. • f quickly, hastily. \ same.

(€
€€

^IJ .MERLIN, PART K

•which Merlin informed the justice that she was
gone to the parson^ who, becoming desperate ^
this disclosure of his gins^ would immediately
fly to the next bridge and drown himself in the
jiver. The completiop of this prophecy inspired
the justice with great respect for the prophet^
whose mother was instantly set at liberty. Five
years after this, by the advice of Merliui she
assumed the veil in a convent of ^black nuns, and
spent the remainder of her life in acts of devotion.

Merlin being now seven years old, it is time that
we should return to the messengers whom we left
upon their travels.

After a long and fruitless journey, three of them
happened to meet in the same town ; and this town
was the place of Merlin's abode. He happened to
be playing, at that moment, with some children in
the street 3 and one of his companions picking a
quarrel with him exclaimed—^

'' Thou black shrew ! thou go us fro !

^*^ Thou art a foul thing gotten amiss !

*' No man wot who thy father is !
But some devil thee begot, I ween.
To don us both treyghe* and /enef .'*

• treason. f mischief.

MEilUN. PART I> $1^

' At these wotdfi the three messengers drew thfei?
fwords^ conceiving that they had found the ap«
pointed victim 5 but Merlin> after rebuking hip
companion for his indiscretion, ran witli a smiling
countenance to the messengers, welcomed them
to the town, and, to their inexpressible astonish-
mentf related to them the whole circumstances of
tlieir mission; assuring them at the same time,
that Vortigem's wise men were great fools, ' and
that all the blood in his veins would not in any way
contribute to the solidity of the intended castle.
The messengers, in reply, disclaimed any desire of
taking liis life, provided he could prevent the loss
of theirs, by furnishing them with solid reasons
for disobeying their orders : he therefore conducted
them to his mother^ from whom they learned hii
miraculous birth, and no less miraculous wisdom |
and it was ultimately agreed that they should al|
cetum to court on the following day, tlie messengers
on their own horses^ accompanied by Merlin oa
a little palfiiey. i

The journey lasted three days j and each of these
added to the admiration of the messengers for thei|;
young companion* They passed the first night in a
market- town, the streets'of which were crowded by
merchants 3 and here Merlin, after a long silence,
burst into a sudden and- violent fit of laughter. On
3

fim MERLIN^ PAItT l'.

being questioned about the cause of his mirth/ he
pointed out to tlie messengers a young man who
vf7^ bargaining for a pair of shoes with uncommon
earnestness. '

Then said Merlin, '^ See ye nought* .
*' That young man, that hath shoon bought,
*' And strong leather to do hem clout-f,
'* And grease to smear hem all about }
** He weeneth to live hem to wear :
'' But, by my soul I dare well swear,
*' His wretched life he shaliybr-/e^f ,
*' JEre he come to his own gate,"

- The event immediately followed the prediction.
On the following day the mirth of the ydung pro-
phet was still more violently excited by a fimeral-
procession, preceded by a number of clerks, and
headed by a priest who chanted most loudly and
melodiously; while an aged mourner, with his
eyes fixed on the bier, on which was laid a boy of

• This is apparently copied from therVita Merlini Calc»
liond. The Latin lines are—

mine progressus, nova calciamenta tenentem
r Spectabatjuvenem, commercantemqu^ taconcs*

Tunc itenim risit, &c.

.. .. f to make the $oles. J lose.

MERUN> PART 1. 2^1'

abdut ten years old^ exhilnted every token of de-
spair and anguish. Merlin, being called upon ta
explain the cause of his mertiment^ informed hi^.
companions that the mourner and the chanter
ought to change characters j since the boy, whose
loss was so feelingly deplored by the reputed father>
had really sprung from the loins of the lively ec-
clesiastic. The justness of this information wa»
verified on tlie spot 3 and the mother of the child,
being closely questioned by the messengers, con-
fessed the truth, upon their assurance tliat the hap-
piness of her good husband, who blindly confided
in her chastity, should not be disturbed by a com-
munication of the discovery.

On tlie third day, about n€x>n. Merlin laughed
again, though no visible object on the journey had
attracted his attention $ and his companions were
informed, to their great siii*prise, tliat his laughter
was occasioned by an event then passing at the
court of Vortigem. The chamberlain of tliat
monarch, it seems, was a woman, who for some
unknown reason had assumed the dress of a man>
dnd whose beauty had inspired tlie queen with 9
passion which she was unable to conquer. But her
solicitations being, . Of course, ineffectual, her love
was soon converted into hatred; she flew to the
king, and accused the chamberlain of an atteiixpt

9^2 MERLIN^ I'ART I*

to oiFer violence to her chastity; and the indig*
iiailt monarch, without further inquiry, ordered the
supposed culprit to be immediately hanged and
quartered* Merlin therefore, addressing his fdlo^
travellers, requested that one of them should in-
stantly hasten to court -, recommend an immedi^
ate examination into the sex of the pretended
ravisher 5 and, after proving her Innocence, in-
form Vottigern that he was indebted to Merlin for
this important discovery.

• His orders were punctually obeyed. One of the
knights messengers, setting off at full speed, shortly
arrived at court 5 fell on his knees before the king j
informed him that the wonderful child was found 5
ihat his knowledge was indeed supernatural, and
that he would arrive within a few hours i lastly, he
told him that the chamberlain lately ordered foi"
inLecution, as guilty of an intended rape on the
queen. Was in fact a woman ^ which might easily be
verified by causing her to be examined in his
majesty's presence. Vortigem issued the necessary
orders, and the truth of the information became
tnanifest) but the king, not much pleased by a
discovery which pomted out his own precipitation
and injustice, sternly asked the messenger, *' from
whom he had learned a secret so extraordinary ?**
^e was answered, that it was discovered by Merlin >

ATEHLIN, PART W ^3

vrho, though only seven years old, understood all
things, and particularly what related to the refractory
castle, much better than all the wise men in hif
majesty's dominions.

- Vortigem, appeased by this answer, and full of
curiosity to see his new guest, ordered out his
whole court, and, springing upon his horse, rode
forward to meet Merlin, whom he conducted in
state to the palace, and entertained with great mag-
nificence. On the following day he conducted the
child to the site of his projected castle, and in-
quired why, the ground being apparently like com-
mon earth, and the materials of his edifice suffi-
ciently solid, they were unable to stand upright in
the dark, and were constantly tumbled down be-
fore morning ? Merlin replied, that tlie accident
was in appearance very perverse, but that the cause
was extraordinary. That immediately below thp
soil were two deep pools of water j below the
water two huge stones j and below the stones two
enormous serpents, the one white as milk, the
other red as fire ; tliat they slept during the da/,
but regularly quarrelled every night -, and, by tlieif
efforts to destroy each other, occasioned an earths
quake, which was fatal to his intended edifice.
Merlin at the same time recommended that he should
take measures to verify the truth of this relationr-

St^4 MERllN^ PAUT <«;'

Accordingly Vortigem employed his fifteen
tliousarid w6rkmen. The water was soon dis-
covered, and, by sinking wells, was wholly drawn
out. The two stones were found at the bottom;
and, being with some difficulty removedi exhibited
the tremendous serpents.

With long tailis, fele fold,
And found right as Merlin told.
That one dragon was red so fire,
tVith bright eyen, as basin clear 5
His tail was great and nothing small ;
His body was a rood withal.
His shaft may no man tell 5
He looked as a fiend of hell.
The white dragon lay him by.
Stem of look, and griesly.
His mouth and throat yawned wide ;
The fire brast out on ilka side.
His tail was ragged as a fiend.
And, upon hh tail's end,
. There was yshaped a griesly heady
To fight with the dragon red.

Merlin had warned Vortigem and dll the spec-
tators that the conflict of these monsters would be
very fi*ightful 5 but curiosity for a time suspended

MERLIN^ PART i; $25

apprehension, till the serpents slowly rising from
their den, and expanding their enormous 'folds,
began the ccwnbat, when the astonished multitude
attempted to fly on all sides 3 Merlin clapping his
hands and shouting to encourage the combatants.

The red dragon, and the white.
Hard together gan they smite, s
With mouth, paw, and witli tail :
Between hem was full hard batail -,
That the earth dinned tho.
And loathly weather wax therto.
So strong Are they casten anon.
That the plains therof shone.
And sparkled about, so bright
As doth the fire from thunder-hght.
So they fought, for sooth to say.
All the long sunmier's day.
They ne stinted never of fighting
Till the even-song gan ring.
So in that time, as I you tell.
The red dragon, that was so fell.
Drove the white far adown.
Into the plains, a great viroun *,
Till they came to a valley 5
There they rested hem both tway,

* circuit. O. Fr. froiji virer, to turn,

VOL. I. a

M6 MEBLm^ PART ti

Well the raountaunce * of a whil^

That a man might gon a mile.

And there the white cover' df his fligbl^

And wox X eager for to fighL

And eagerly, without fail.

The red dragon he gan assail.

And drove the red right again

Till he came into the plain.

And there the white, anon-right,

Hent^ the red with all his might.

And to the ground he him cast.

And, with the fire of his blast.

Altogether brent the red.

That never of him was founden shred ;

But dust upon the ground he lay ! &c.

The white serpent, immediately after his victory,
disappeared, and no man has since discovered the
place of his retreat.

Merlin, having thus fully confirmed the trutli of
his assertion, desired to be confronted with tlie
Magi J and sternly asked them why they had un-
justly thirsted after his blood. They humbly re-

* amount -.—the shorter phrase " mountance of a mile"
is often used, and means the same thing. By a similar
analogy, the word stund, in German, signifies an hour and

a league.

f recovered. | waxed; grew. § seized*

Merlin^ part i» M7

plied, that their art had certainly deceived them,
but that the signs they had observed in the heavens
could admit of no other interpretation ; and Merlin,
satisfied with their humiliation, explained to them,
that the signs and characters which they had seed
in the sky wefe written there by his wicked father,
who wished for his destruction. This point being
settled, the Magi were pardoned 3 Merlin became
the chief counsellor of Vortigern 5 and the castle
Was completed by his directions without any sinister
accident.

At length it was suggested to Vortigern that the
battle of the serpents, though certainly a sublime
and magnificent spectacle, was not likely to have
been solely intended for his amusement, but was
probably the symbol of some mystery which the
wisdom of Merlin would, doubtless, enable him
to reveal . He was therefore sent for and questioned
by the king, but continued to maintain a sullen silence
till the impatient monarch insisted on receiving an
answer, and tlireatened him with instant death as
the punishment of his contumacy. The prophet an-
swered the threat with a smile of haughty contempt :

Sir, withouten ween.

That day shalt thou never se*en, .

Though thou take thy sword in bond.

Me to slay, or bring in bond,

a2 ,

t28 MERLIN^ PART I*

Yet may thou fail of all thy fere.
As doth the greyhound of the hare.

He then insisted that^ before he began to answer^
the king should find hostages for his security ; nor
would he open his lips till two barons of the first
distinction and opulence pledged themselves by
oath, on the sacred writings, to preserve him from
all danger.

Merlin then began to explain the mystery of the
two serpents. The red one, he observed, was
emblematic of Vortigern, who had obtained the
crown by the slaughter of king Moyne j the white,
with its two heads, r^esented the two rightfiil
heirs, Aurelius and Uther, who, confident in their
own prowess and in the assistance of Britany, were
^ preparing to ^tempt by force the recovery of their
domini(His.

*^ Into this castle they shall thee drive,

'' With thy children, and with thy wife,

'' And all that beth with thee then.

*' Into the ground men shall you brenne !

*' And the king Sir Aungys

'^ Shall be slain, and hold no price t

'^ His kindred, and thine also

'^ Shall don England mickle wo !

MfiilLIN^ PART r. ^9

Sir Fortager, this is the tokening
Of the dragons* fighting.
'* As I tliee say, withouten oath,
*' Thou shall it find seker and sooth. *^
Still him stood Sir Fortager,
And bot his lip with dreary cheer -,
And said to Merlin, *' Withouten fail
*' Thou must me tell some counsail,
*' Withouten chest *, Withouten strife,
'* How I may best save my life."
Then Merlin gan stand still 3
And answered him with wordes ^ille f ,
And said, " Sire, withouten ween,
'^ Thus it must needs be*en ;
'•' And therefore, so God give me rest,
*' I no ken no redeX — but do thy best !"

Fortager said, " But thou me tell,
*' Anon I sliall do tliee quell !'*

He stert up, and would have him raught^.
But where he was he ne wist nought.

Merlin indeed had vanished immediately after
the conclusion of his speech 5 and, during th©
fruitless search of Vortigern and his courtiers,

* debate. Chaucer, f horrible. Chaucer. \ advice.

§ reached.

S30 MERLIN^ PART I.

was occupied in relating to Blaise the various ad-
ventures which had befallen him since their separa-
tion. During his abode with this holy man he
compiled his book of prophecies, comprising all
the past and future history of his country. Pos-
terity will lopg regret that this invaluable repertory
is so obscure

That few men, withouten ween.
Can imderstand what it may mean.

Our author now passes to the concluding
events of Vortigem's reign, which are thus in-
troduced ;

A merry time it is in May,
When springeth the summers day.
And damisels carols leadeth.
On green wood fowls gredeth * .
So in that time, as ye may hear.
Two barons came to Fortager, &c.

They brought the very unwelcome intelligence
thatAurelius Ambrosius, and his brother Uther,
having made good their landing, were advanced
within a few miles of Winchester. — ^Vortigern,

* sings :-.-in general it expresses any cry.

MERLIN, PART 1. 231

without loss of time, dispatched messengers to
Hengist, imploring his assistance; while other
messengers were sent to Winchester with orders to
provide against a surprise, and assurances that he
would immediately march at the head of his whole
army, and give battle to the invaders. But the
tyrant's orders arrived too late. The citizens of
Winchester no sooner discovered the banners of
their antient sovereigns, tlian they resolved to open
their gates, and, having overpowered the resistance
of the garrison, joyfully took the oath of allegiance
to the right heirs of the monarchy.

On the approach of Vortigern and Hengist, the
two brothers quitted the city, and drew out their
army in order of battle j but, before the conflict
began, the troops of Vortigern were already thrown
into confusion. Many of the British officers, in-
dignant at being combined with the Saxons against
their countrymen, positively refused to make the
attack ; and, being joined by their troops, boldly
resisted the orders of Vortigern, and repelled tlie
attempts of his adherents to overpower them. The
news of this revolt being carried to Aurelius and
Uther, tliey instantly seized the favourable mo-
ment 5 threw the allies into confusion 5 and soon
obtained a decisive victory. The fugitives were

232 MERLIN^ PART I.

pursued as far as Salisbury plain, where Vortigem
took refuge in his castle 3 but the Britons having
thrown wild-fire over the walls, the whole edifice
was soon involved in a general conflagration. The
tyrant with his wife and child perished in the
flames ; and the prophecy of Merlin was thus fully
accomplished.

933

MERLIN,

PART II.

8020 Lines.

1 HE following abstract is made from a transcript
of the Auchinleck MS. communicated to the editor
by Mr. Scott. The author has evidently intended
to relieve the fatigue of his hearers during his
long-winded narrative by breaking it into^y^^e^ or
cantos; and as the expedient appeared at least
equally necessary in prose, it has been followed
in this abridgments

CANTO I.

After the death of Vortigem, Uther Pendragon
marched to besiege Hengist in a castle to which he
had retreated 3 but the efforts of the assailants
being rendered abortive by the strength of the
position, he was advised by five of his barons, who
had witnessed the preceding feats of Merlin, to
apply for the assistance of the magician. Ac-

234 MERLIN, PART II.

cordingly, messengers were dispatched in search of
him 3 and

On a day, this messager

Sette hem alle to the diner.

A beggar ther come in.

With a long herd on his chin -,

A staff in his hond he hadde.

And shoone on his fete lade^.

With his schuldres he gan rove f.

And lade J " good for Godys love/*

They said he scholde nought share

Bot strokes and lismare\.

The eld man said anon,
*' Ye be nice\\j ever}xh one,
'' That sitten here and skorne me,
'' On the king's nedes that schuld be,
*' For to finde Merlin child \:
*^ The barouns ben witless and wild,
*' That sen ten men him to seche,

Tliat nought ne couthe ^ knowleche !

To day he hath yow oft met >
*' No know ye him never the bet.
** Wendeth ** home by my rede f f !
" For him to find ne shal ye spede.

* perhaps had\ or it may be the perfect tense of the verb
aHde OT*L'ide.

f shrug. t prayed. § disgrace. || foolish.
^ know no knowledge. • ** go. ft advice.

JMERLIN^ PART II. fi35

^^ Biddeth him and the barouns five

They come and speken with hm\Myve*'j
And seggeth f , Merlin wil hem abide
*' In the forest here byside."

With these words he vanished ; and the messen-
gers, as '^ telleth the letters black," were filled
with wonder. Uther, having heard their relation,
left the command of the army with his brother
Aurilis Brosias (Aurelius Ambrosius), and repaired
to the forest, where Merlin amused himself at his
Expense by assuming three several disguises : first
that of a swine-herd > then tliat of a chapman with
a pack at his back 3 and lastly that of a young and
comely peasant^ — in which shape he exhorted him
to have patience, assuring him that Merlin would
keep his assignation, though perhaps not till late at
night. At last he arrived, announced himself as
Merlin, though still in his peasant's shape, and
related that by his advice Aurelius had just attacked
and slain Hengist. Uther, rejoiced by this news
'* as die birds by the first dawn of day," returned
with Merlin to the camp, and found his brother
not less astonished than delighted by his victory, of
which he was unable to give a very intelligible ac-
count till he learnt from Uther tlie name of his

♦ presently. f say.

936 MERLIN^ PART II.

^werful counsellor and assistant. At this time a
message was received from the Saracens (Saxons)
requesting leave to retire^ with the assurance that
they would never more return to infest the peace
of Britain : and this proposal being by Merlin's
^vice accepted^ and the tranquillity of the island
restored by the departure of the enemy, Uther
was elected sovereign^ received the path of fealty
^from the principal barons, and was solenmly
crowned at Winchester, amidst th€$ rejoicings of
.the whole nation.

Not long after this ceremony a vast anpay of
Saracens from Denmark made an attack on Bristol.
Merlin had forewarned the brothers of this in-
vasion, and at the, same time informed them that
one of them was destined to fall in the dreadful
conflict by which the triumph of the Britons must
be purchased, but that the victim would be re*
0yarded by the crown of martyrdom. Uther was
fdirected to make head against the aiemy on the
.land side, while Aurelius should attack them in
the jeax from the sea beach j and both exerted
themselves with the most desperate valour. But
Uther received from Merlin, during the eng^e-
.ment, a secret assurance that he was not the per-
son destined to go immediately to heaven ^ and the
romance tells us that he was very glad to hear it.

MERLIN^ PART Hi 931

He redoabled his efibrts to secure the victory
nearly gained by Aurelius, who fell when the
enemy was already thrown into confusion; and
these efforts were so successful^

That of thritty thousand, and mo,
Ne let they five away go.
Of our were slawen then anon
Three thousand, and ten, and one.
Three mile wayes, other two,
Ne might no man step, ne go.
Neither on hill ne on den,
Bot he stepped on dede men.
The blode over-ran the countray.
Over alle in the vall^.

The body of Aurelius was, on the following
day, carefully sought and interred with due so-
lemnity.

Uther reigned seven years, and, scrupulously fol-
lowing in all things the advice of Merlin, distin-
guished every year by the most brilliant achieve-
ments. He overcame king Claude * the' tyrant
of Graul^ and became the suzerain jof Hoel king

* This Claudas, the ^eat enemy of Ban and Boort,
makes a conspicuous figure in the romance of .Sir
Launcelbt.

iSB MERLIN^ FAUT It^

of Harman *, first husband of the beautiful Igermi/
and lord of Gascony, Normandy and Boulogne^
Pokou^ Champagne^ and Anjou. He also ac*
quired the allegiance of Ban king of Benoit m
" lesse Briteyne,'* and of his brother Bohort of
Cannes, two of the first pillars of chivalry*
Moreover he instituted the rduiid table, under
Merlin^s special guidance, intended to assemble
the best knights in the world. High birth, great
strength activity arid skill, fearless valour, and
firm fidelity to tlieir suzerain, Were indispensably
requisite for an admission into this order. They
were bound by oath to assist each other at the
hazard of their own lives 5 to attempt singly the
most perilous adventures ; to lead, when necessary,
a life of monastic solitude > to fly to arms at the
first summons; and never to retire from battle
till they had defeated the enemy, unless when night
intervene J and separated the combatants.

* The country of Harman is unknown to modern geo*
graphy, but appears in this place to mean Britany. The
Hoel king of the country is perhaps assumed to be the
father of him who is celebrated in Geoffrey of Monmouth
as the great assistant of Arthur in his victories ; for, as our
romancer has made him the first husband of Igema,
Arthur's mother, these heroes thus become very nearly
related

MERLIN, PART II. 23^

This table 'gan Uther the wight ;

Ac it to ende had he no might.

For, theygh alle the kinges under our lord

Hadde ysitten at that bord.

Knight by knight, Ich you telle.

The table might nought fid-fiUe,

Till they were born that should do all

Fulfill the mervaile of the Greal.

Happy are the kings whose ministers happen to
be conjurers I Uther had the good fortune to close,
the list of his sanguinary conquests by the more
flattering though not very honourable victory which
he obtained, by the assistance of Merlin, over
tlie beautiful Igema, whom he enjoyed, under
the shape of her husband the duke of Cornwall, in
Tintagel castle. It is unnecessary to repeat from
the romance tlie same circumstances which have
been related by Geoffrey of Monmouth 3 but it
will be proper to observe, that the subsequent union
of Uther to his fair captive was accompanied by
the marriages of the three daughters whom she
had borne to Hoel, her first husband.

Nanters, king of Grerlot, married Blasine, the
eldest, by whom he had a son named Galaas.
King Lot espoused the second, named Belicent,
who became the mother of Gawain, Guerehes^^

^4(^ MERLIN^ PART II.

Agravain^ and Graherlet. The third was united
to Urien king of Scherham^ whose son was the
celebrated Yvvain.

Merlin^ it seems^ had exacted from Uther, as th^
price of his complaisance in furthisring his majesty's
amours^ the absolute right of directing, as he
might think fit, the nurture and education of the
boy who should result frohi them 5 and no sooner
were the usual festivities concluded than he re-
paired to Other, and reminded him of his promise.
He had read in the stars that the wife of Antour,
a nobleman high in Uther*s esteem, would be the
best possible nurse for the child 5 and therefore
directed the king, in the first place, to obtain the
consent of the intended foster-father. He then
enjoined him to conceal carefully from Igema the
identity of her unknown ravisher with her present
husband 5 and, when she should confess to him
her pregnancy, that he should consent to forgive
her supposed crime, only on condition that the
child should be delivered to a person whom he
-would apik)int, for the purpose of educating it in
perfect obscurity. All this was punctually per-
formed. Merlin received the child at the palace
gate 5 conveyed hini to church, where he caused
him to be christened by the name of Arthur ; and
then bore him to Antour*s wife, who imdertook to

MERLIK^ PART n; 94 f

suckle Inm, having obtained another nurse for her
own son Kay, of whom she had been recently
delivered. A» these secret anecdotes may required
some attestation^ the authcn: assures us that '^ he has
found them in the black 5" and soon ^ter appeals to
^ the Brount, meaning perhaps the Brut or Chronicleir
' Arthur grew and prospered under the care of
Sir Antour—

He was. fair, and well cb grS,
And was a child of gret noblay.
He was curteys, faire and gent.
And wight, andhardi, verament.
Ciirteyslich and fair he spac ;
With him was none evil lack.

But |ie was kept in perfect ignorance of his high
birth 5 and Uther, though he lived many years
after tlus^ expired without revealing the secret
either to Arthur or to Igema. Merlin however,
who attended him on his death-bed, assured him
that his son should succeed him, and that in his
reign should be fulfilled all the wonders of the
San-Gr6al ; and with this promise the king was
perfectly satisfied. He died, and was buried by
bishop Brice, a personage of great sanctity and
no small importance.

VOL. I. R

849 ME1ILSV> PART m

As 30(m 89 theTobsec^vtt^ of ih^ late kinfg were
finishedy a pArlbubdeot wa»^ conVened for the pur*
pose of electing^ successcM-^ and was attended "by
all the inde()eiident lords abd pribces of the island;
But as UtheE^s.&mily^ was stipp6sed to be extinct^
and Quxnerous <!aiid)dates' brought forward their
^aims to the throil^ the asstoibly continued to
deliberate during six months ; at the end of which
they were so divided into factions as to preclude all
rational hope of accodimodatiDn;' Bishop i Brice,
on Christmas.ev^^ . took .oOcaMod tK>.add#es^lhem ;
and represented^ that/ a8"no(h(ttnan>.ineatits were
likely to produce unanitnity' ur th^ oonx&sels with-
out the special interfereocd .<if' heaven^ it. would
well become thetorta putaprtheirprayers^v^t that
solemn season^ for some token which should
manifest the ioteotions cf ptrovidaice. respecting
their futuie^scWereigai This' advice ijtrak adopted •;'
all parties prayed with the greatest fervodr^^— and
with such succe^s^ that tfie service, was scarcely
ended when a miilaculous: stone, was dtstnvered
before th^ church^dobxf^and in the stone waa Sna^
fited a sw(>rd with thii foUdwing w^ordsr ehgnred
on its hilt: .... -.. j

it'

Ich am y-h6te Escalibore y
Unto a king fair tresore."

. »/ 1

MERIilW^ PART 11% 24a

(On Inglis is this writing,
'' Kerve steel, and yren, and al thing.")

Bishop Brioe, after exhorting the assembly- td
offer up their thanksgivings for this signal ^miracld;
proposed a law, that whoever should be able todra\^^
out that sword from the stone should be immedi-
ately acknowledged as sovereign of the Britons;
and' his proposal was instantly deoreed by general
acclamation.

King Lot, king Nanters, king Clarien, &ad all
tlie principal candidates, successively put their
strength to the proof 5 but the miraculous sword
resisted all their efforts. It stood till Candlemas;
it stood till Easter; it stood till Pentecost, when
the best knights in the kingdom usually assembled
for the annual tournament ; and no one had been
able to move it. In the mean time Arthur had^
been placed, for the purpose of finishing hia
education, in tlie service of king Lot : but when
Kay was received, previously to the feast of Pen-
tecost, into the order of kniglithdod, he was ad-

... . . ■ • r

vised by his father to take Arthur as his squire ;
and the young hero accordingly attended his foster-
brother, in that capacity, to the lists. Sir Kay
was a youth of greatvalour and address, (though,
as the romancer tells us, he " stariimered a little;")

f44 >f£RLIN^ PART JJh,

and^ having overthrown a competent number of
knights with his spear^ proceeded into the medley
with his sword, — ^which unfortunately broke in his
hand,— so that he was forced to send Arthur to his
mother for a new one. Arthur hastened home;
but did not find the lady : he had however Observed
near the church a sword sticking in a stone, and on
his return galloped to the place, drew it out with
great ease, and, perfectly unconscious of having
performed a mighty feat, delivered it to his
master. Kay, who was better aware of its value,
swore him to secrecy, and then, showing the
weapon to his father, professed his intention of
claiming the throne.

Sir Antour, who was rather incredulous, in*
sisted that his son should repeat the feat, lest he
should only cover himself with ridicule by failing
in the experiment before the general assembly j:
and Kay, who hoped that tbb charm was jiow
broken, readily replaced the sword in the stone j to
which the blade instantly adhered so strongly that
he was utterly unable to remove it. Somewhat
abashed by this discovery of the imposture, he con-
fessed to his father that he had received the sword
from his squire 5 and Antour, carrying Arthur to,
the catliedral, intrusted him with the secret virtues
of the sword, promised hb best assbtance in placing.

KTERLIN, PART 11. ^4S

him on the throne, and only requested of his foster
son, in return for all his service, the promise of
dominating Sir Kay to the office of high steward ;
a request with which Arthur joyfully complied.

Sir Antour now hastened to invest him with the
Order of knighthood, and equipped him with a
degree of splendour suited to his high pretensions.

First he fond him cloth and cradel,
Tho he fond him stede and sadel 3
Helm, and briny, and hauberjoun,
Saumbers, quissers, and aketoun *,
Quarre shield, gode swerd of steel.
And launce stiff, biteand wel.
There he gave him, anon-rights.
To his service forty knights.

•

A-morwe they went to tournament.
And so there dede, verament,
Ihat, eche day. Sir Arthour
The los he bare and the hoqonr.

Antour then repaired to bishop Bricej to inform
him that Arthur had performed the conditions
pointed out by heaven ; upon which the good pic-

* Cradelj perhaps from Cratula, a species of dress which
Du Cange supposes to have been clerical*— ^riny, and hau-
bcrjauTif different sorts of breast-plates — saumbers, perhaps
misspelt for vaumbras, the covering of the arm—- grut5«er«,
coYmng for the thigh— roiretoim, a coat of maiL

346 MERLIN^ PART II*

late summoned the general meetings before whom
, the trial of the sword was several times repeated ;
Arthur was unanimously proclaimed^ and an early
day appointed for his solemn cc^onatioti.

During the preparations for this ceremony Mer-
lin arrived^ and communicated to the bishop the
whole mystery of Arthur*s birth. He at the same
time fore warned him that the approaching festival
sWould not pass off without a severe contest^ and
the effusion of much bloody he recommended
that Arthur*s party should be strengthened as
quickly as possible by the accession of Sir Jordain^
Sir Bretel^ and all the adherents of Igema -, and
above all^ that they should be constantly armed^
and prepared for the attack of their enemies.

CANTO II.

Mirie it is in time of June,
When fenil hangeth abroad in toun ;
Violet, and rose flower,
Woneth then in maiden's bower.
• The Sonne is hot, the day is long,
Foulis maketh miri song.
King Arthour bar coroun
In Cardoile that noble town, &c.

Among the competitors for the crown were six
kings, distinguished by supeiior power or by merit :

these were Lot of Lothian 5 -Nantersof 'Gerlot;
Urien of Reged 3 Csdcoda^ king ef Strangore 5 Yder
kingof the Marches) and Apgoisantki^ of Scotland.
£ach of these conducted a small army of adherents to
Aitbitf*scoroDatibn ; attended^ in snllen sUencejthe
re^igltius ceremonies ; listened witholat any symptoxBS
of impatience to the exhortations . cf • bishop Brice j
^ttd even condescended to parta'ke of the Teaisoni
ef the swaiis, . peacocks, bustdids, pheasants^
partridges and craiies^ as well as^ of the pimentiKut
o]ar6^ ' by which the mass was immediately fcl-i
lowed. But v/hen, at the conclusion of the feast/
Arthur [H'oceeded. according to custom to eonSst
6a his igueats the in^^estlture of the great fiefs and
offices of the crown, they suddenly rose witE
otie&tcoird, exclaimed that a mi»-begotten adveti-^
tut^r was 'xAi€t' to reign over them, and attempt-^
ed to seize the ^ng's person. Merlin, :!ifrhx> vfsd
present, defended the legitimacy of Arthur's JsMcth,-
and told, as intelligibly as the noise would permit,'
his whole story 3 but his eloquence was un*
availing—-

Hie barouns said to Merlin,
" He was found thurgh witching tlnne !
'^ Traitour," they said, '^ verament
** For al thine encbantement.

S48 MERXJNj PART IK

''No shall never no bore's stren

" Our king^ no heved ben,

"Ac be fibal sterve rigbt saion !'*—

Luckily Artbur's friends, being perfectly armed,
very soon drove before tbem tbeir inomense crowd
pf enemies, and, cbasing them quite out of the
town, shut the gates against tbem. But though
forced to retreat to tbeir tents, they still threatened
a speedy vengeance j and tbeir great numbers,
their valour, and the smallness of Arthur's party,
which did not amount to more than 310 knights
and about S700 ill-armed infantry, seemed to pro*
imse them a certain and speedy victory. Bisho^T
Brice however, having assembled tlie whole inha-
bitants of the town, e^lained to tbem the divinei
right of Arthur to the crown, as well as his
hereditary . claim as son to Uther ; assured them
qf the assistance of heaven 5 and concluded his
harangue by these energetic words :

'' Ac, for be is king, and king's son,

*' Y curse alle, and y dom,

'' His enemies with Christes mouth,

*' By East, by West, by North, and South!

>«

Merlin, on his part, was not less active. He
cast, by his enchantments, ' a sort of magical
6

JCERUK^ PART Ii; S49

sipyd-fire into the 'Spacious camp of the enemy;
^diidi spread a general -conflagration; and^ whilst
tiiey were bewildered in the smoke and almost de-
prived of their senses^ directed a sally from the
town 5 by which they were instantly put to flight,
with the loss of 415 (our author is very exact in
his numbers) of their most forward combatants.

But the panic could not last for ever. Nantera
king of Grerlot at last succeeded in rallying the
fugitives, of whom he collected about 10,000 in
a valley, and threatened to cmsh at once the small
army of his pursuers.

Arthur seighe* where he cam,

A stiff launce anon he nam f :

His fete in the stiropes he strdght f ; -

The stirop- to-bent, the hors aqueig}U\ :

The stede he smot, and he forth slode \\ :

Ogain the king Nariters he rode. ' -

Arthur, as might be expected, speedily over-
threw this antagonist, and afterwards king Lot ;-
and drawing the terrible escalibore rushed into the
thickest part of the press, and spread destruction
round him; But being st<^ped by an inlpenetrabl&

* saw. f took. \ stretched. § shook. || slid.

9BO MEKLiN^ ^A&T.II.

moltitade^ aod assailed by the six kiog^ at aacc,
bis Jborse was finally kjJUed, and bimaelf in immi*
nest danger of 9Ufi5:>catl6n ; when he was rescued
hy Sir Kay, who ^3y one t)urust of his lance over^
th^w Anguisdnt (and '.C^rodas, and> assist by
Ulfin and Bretel, motinted IJbe king on a fresh horse.
But though aH these kn^hts pesfbrmed prodigies of
valour^ they did not.whoHy engross the honour
cf the day.

Here ye shal understood.
That men o-foot, of this lond,
Helden with king Arthour,
And did him w^l gret honour.
Withaxes^ staves, and with bowe>
Bid so that alle the other Jloti^e *,
And .this kinges flowen also*

Arthur, after a loi^ pursuit^ collected his men,
bestowed on them the plunder of the enemy's
camp, returned to Carlisle, and after a solemn
Ihanksgiying, and a festival of fourteen days in
honour of his victory, was advised by Merlin to
mjHrh to London, and there to summon round him
all the great vassals of the kingdom for the pur*
pose of receiving their oaths of allegiance.

♦ fled.

MERI«IN^ FART II. S51

At this assembly Merlin^ after representing the
Teiy formidable conspiracy which was formed
agsdnst Arthur^ recommended that an embassy
diould be sent to king Ban of Benoit^ and king
Bbhort of Gannes, two of the best knights in the
worid> -tb request their immediate presence, and
tftttBir Bretel and Sir Ulfin should be the bearers
of th6 invitation. They passed the sea ; found on
Ae firbntiers of France and Britany a vast wilder-
nesi/' the effect of the long wars carried on by
Ghndasi • the French tyrant, against the Bretons;
and during their passage through this desolated
country were attacked by seven knights, partisans
of king Glaudas, of whom they slew six, put the
sevdith to flight, eiecuted their commission, and
returned to England accompanied by Ban and
B^ort, and -by a ihird brother named Grimbaut, a
clerk, orAy inferior to the arch-conjurer Merlin.

Gn their arrival' they were welcomed at Ports-
moathi-andin afll the towns froni thence to Lon-
don, by songs arid by " hoppings" or dances :

.... ^ ...,.«. ^ every strete
Was bi honged> loh sayforsoth.
With many, pall, and many cloth.
Everich man, of eachtrtes/er*
Hem rklen again with fair attire.

^^ tnde.

252 merlik; part ii;

In everich strete, damiseles
Carols ledden, fair tmifeles*.

• * •

Arthur met them m great state, and led them to.
^ splendid entertainment j and after dinner therpya^
guests were much edified by listening to a conver-
fiiation between Merlin and Grimbaut^ which theji
could not understand, concerning the '' quaintise'*
aqd contrivance of the sphere, the sun, moon,:
^tars, and other '^ privy works.*' They then,,
being fully satisfied by Merlin as ta the validity of
A.rthur's title, swore fealty to him, and afterwards
proceeded to a tournament ; which must have been,
very magnificent,, because the author enomerates.
fourteen knights whose feats of arms were par-.
ticularly noticed. These were Sir Kay, Sir Lucan-
the butler. Sir Grifles, Sir Manic, Sir Gumasy
Sir Flacides, Sir Dreins, Sir Holias, Sir Gracieos,,
Sir Marlians, Sir Flandrius, Sir Meleard, Sir
Dmkius, and Sir Breoberius. These festivities:
being, ended. Merlin at le^gth explained to thOj
two kings the great purposes for which he had re-
quested their presence j the first- of which was,
that they should assist king Arthur in obtaining the
hand of Guenever the daughter of Leo^igaii king
of Carmalide, and that with this view they should
discomfit king Rion, who, at the head -of twenty

* noiiicrotfs.

MERLIN^ PART II; £59

tr&utary sovereigns^ was making war oh ihe said
Leodigah. The other^ that they should join Arthur
with a. body of 25,000 men ; whereby he would be
enabled to overcome eleven kings and one duke
who were at that mcmient in rebellion agaipst him^
lad were actually encamped^ with a vast army, in-
the forest of Rockingham.

Ban and Bohort readily admitted the importance
of both these objects, but alleged that they were'
themselves in hourly danger from the ehterprisesr
of their old enemy Claudas, who was then so-
liddng a powerful alliance against them ; and that
beforis they could reach Britany, collect tlieir
forces, and return to Rockingham, the eleven kings
would probably be masters of London. Mferliu,
however, was by no means discouraged by these
difficulties. He promised them, on the faith of a
necromancer^ that they should not suffer any
damage from Claudas, and that the succours which
he requested from them should be ready in due
time. Heathen conducted Sir Ulfiu and a strong
garrison to Rockingham castle, with instructions
to guard every pass, and to prevent the passage of
iiny spies from the enemies* forces 5 after which
returning to London, and obtaining the rings of
San and Bohojt as symbols of the authority under
which he acted, he passed in one night to Britany ;

£54 MERLIN, PJOtmiU

its9Bmh\ed, with the assistance of Sir Leontesr.aDiE
Sir Farien the lieutenanta < of the two kings, an
army of . 40^000 men -, leR 15,000 for the defezwe
of the coimtiy } deposited 25,000 at Rockingham ;
and>. appearing. very unexpecte(%.in the presence
of Arthur and his two guests^ adrised that thero]^
army should immediately, begin its march.

The rebel kings, who had farmed thdr camp in
the forest of Rpckingham, . were ten in number :
viz* Clarion, king of Northumberbnd, Brangores
king of Strangore, jCradelnHan of North Wales,
and a certain king called Agrugines, whose dcH
minions lay very far north, and who is usually *di«
stinguished by thei title of f^ king of the hundred
knights }**. and the six who have been already etm^
merated.. £stas or Enskf earl of Arundel had
also joined their forces, and this formidable con-
federacy had assembled an army of 40/X)0 men.
They thought themselves secure of victory^ because
they knew that Arthur's forces^ amounted .to> no
more than 15,000 $ and were k^norant of the large
reinforcement which Merlin, by a strdte of ne^
cEomancy, had so recently smuggled over from
Britany. They were therefore on the point of
being surprised in their camp -, but Lot; having
very luckily dreamed a bad dream, sent out a
number of scouts, who falling in with Arthur's

army on its march,' spread the alarm/ and gavift
time to the tr6ops t» seize their arms'. MerliAi
however, by a new enchantment^ caused all the
tents to ^1 down at onde; and the confosion
thus produced fbrc^ the enemies to retreat somd
miles^ during which they lost about one fourth of
their numbers^ A long and obstinate encounter
then took place, in which many fell on both sides
by wounds which exhibit great anatomical variety 4
but at length the confederated kings Were totally
routed ^ and Arthur, after bestowing the pillage of
their camp oahis friends Ban and JBohort, returned
witb diem tp London.

Media now assured him that he had nothing
more to fear from the rebels ^ that a dreadful
femine, which would speedily be felt all over ths
country, and the approach of new Saxon invaders,
would shortly compel his rivals to court his pro*
tection^ that nothing remained for him but ta
amass a large stock of provisions, which he must
disperse amongst his fortified towns, and to put his
whole army in garrisons ; that he should presently
receive a strong reinforcement of young and valiant
knights, who would become die instruments of hi*
future victories 5 .and that he might now diismiss
his Breton auxiliaries, reserving only their two
leaders. Ban and Bohort. Finally he invited him

Q56 MERllSf PABT UV

to a meetings within a few clays, at thei town of
Breckenho^ between England an4 CarmdUde, and
suddenly vanished from their sight.

Arthur punctually followed the advice.of . bi9
counsellor^ and, having completed his preparations^
repaired with his friends to Breckenho. But Mer-r
lin, though now by profession a. minister of state,
was always by taste a conjurer, and delighted m
playing tricks upon the sovereigns whom he pror
tected. He now met Arthur and his company ia
the disguise of an old " charle" (peasant) with a
bow and arrows, shot in their presence a couple
of wild-ducks, and, on Arthur's proposing to
cheapen them, took occasion to banter him pretty
severely for his avarice. Having at length made
himself known, he was received with due honours*
and, finding it necessary to detain the court during
some weeks at Breckenho, made Arthur amends
by j)rocuring for him an interview with the fair
Lyanor, daughter of a certain earl Sweyn, a danosei
who liad repaired to the king for the purpose of
doing homage, and tlms incidentally obtained the
honour of giving birth to a son who was afterwards
a knight of the round table. The name of this
*' knight of mound" is not mentioned ^.

* In Malpry's Mort. Ai:thur. hie is called Borre*

Jil£RLIN^ PART II. S57

CANTO III.

In time of winter alange* it is !
The follies lesen her bliss ;
The leves fallen off the tree 5
Rain alangeth f the cuntree :
Maidens leseth her hewe ;
Ac ever hi lemeth \ that be trewe !

These moral reflections are occasioned by the
authors change of hiai subject. He now carries u8
to the eleven kings, who, at the moment of their
greatest distress in consequence of their late defeat^
received intelligence that a vast body of Saxons
was landed in the country, . and that their whole
remaining force would probably be insufficient to
make head against this new and formidable enemy.
In this exigency it was proposed by Cradelman
king of North Wales, that they should separate
their forces } that each should collect around him
a chosen body of men, and retire to the strongest
posts in their respe<!tive dominions -, and that, by
carrying on a predatory war against the invaders,
they should cut off by degrees their means of sub-
sistence in the interior of the country. This ad-
vice was unanimously adopted ; and they continued

* tedious, irksome. f renders irksome.

\ they shine ; preserve their splendour.

VOLkI. 8

958 MBRUN^ PART It^

to defend themselves in their several capitals^ (of
which the names and situations are equally unin-
telligible,) during five years of bloodjr but pbscure
war^re -, while their subjects, too miich harassed
to sow or gather in their harvests, were perishing
in great numbers through want and misery. Cra-
delman himself was much infested by a wicked
witch his neighbour, sister to a soudan called
Hardogabran, a pagan conjurer. Her name was
Carmile; and she was scarcely inferior, in know-
ledge of the black art, to the celebrated Morgain,
who '' beguiled the good clerk Merlin.*'

So general was the scene of misery, that Britain
seemed to be on. the. verge xxf its total ruin: but
heaven was now preparu^g the means of its de-^
liverance, and a new generati6n:wa$ rising to re*
pair the mischiefs produced by^e- rebellion of the
confederate kings. Erangoreiiad, adtxjut this time,
espoused Indranes, the widow .x)f the king ^ of
'* Hungary and Blaike f ' and Sagremore, her son
by this foreign husband, a knight of the most un-
daunted valour, was preparing to come to Britain,
to receive the order of knighthood from the hands
of king Arthur. The same project : was formcfd
about the same time by a small bandof young heroei
within this island -, and the author of the romance
has employed the reinaindar of this, and the whole of
the following canto^ in relating their achieveao^ts.

MERLIN^ |>ART II. 259

The reader will remember that Nanters king of
Grerlot had married Blasine, uterine sister to
Arthur^ and had by her a sgn named . Galachin.
King Lot had married Belisent^ the other daughter
of Ygema^ and had four sons, Wawain or Gawain,
Gueheret, Gaheriet, and Agravain. Galachin^'
having observed .that the progress of the enemy
was chiefly owing to want of union among the
Britons, one day inquired of his mother Blasine
whether Arthur was indeed his uncle 3 and on being
told by her that it was so, and that he could not be
better employed than in producing a reconciliation
between his uncle and his father, he determined to
undertake the task, and to associate, if possible,
his cousin Gawain in the same project. Gawain
was. on a hunting party when Galachin' s messenger
arrived 5 and, returning to his mother with his three
greyhounds in one hand and three raches in the
other, was received with reproaches for the futility
of his amusements.

'' Thou lesest thy time with unright ;

'^ Thou hast age to ben knight.

'' Thou shult leten thy folie,

'' Thy rage and thy rihaudic.

'^ Think on thine erne king Arthour,

*' Knight that is of mest* valour;

* leten, leave, rage, passions, ribaudte, love of pleasure.
mest, most. i 2

S6Q merlin^ part II.

*' And fond* to make good acord
" Between him and Lot thy lord !*'
Ther sche told, hirti before.
How Arthour was bigeten and bore, &c.

Gawain excused himself by alleging his ig-
norance of these particulars. He redispatched the
messenger of Galachin with assurances that he
would shortly join him j and, finding that his three
brothers were resolved on the same adventure,
desired Belisent to furnish them with arms and a
proper number of attendants ; repaired at their
head to '^ the fair of Brockland," the appointed
place of meeting ; and, embracing Galachin, joy-
fully associated him in the enterprise, and fixed a
day for their inarch towards Londoik

CANTO IV,

Miri is th' entree of May 5

The fowles make mirie play ;

Maidens singeth, and maketh play ;

The time is hot, and long the day.

The jolif nightingale singeth.

In the grene mede flowers springeth.

Lot and Belisent equipped their four sons for their
great expedition with tlie utmost magnificence;

• UtJ.

MERLIN^ PART It. 26l

and assembled to attend them five hundred young
men> sons of earls and barons, all mounted on
the best horses^ with complete suits of choice
armour^ and all habited in the same cloth. Of
this splendid troop, nine only had yet received the
order of knighthood : the rest Avere candidates
for that honour, and anxious to earn it by an early
encounter with the enemy. The four princes re-
ceived the parental benediction, and departed for the
place of rendezvous appointed by Galachin, who
met them with a similar troop of two hundred men
appointed by Nanters and Blasine to attend him.
After a march of three days they arrived in the
vicinity of London, where they expected to find
Arthur and his court, and very unexpectedly fell in
with a large convoy belonging to the enemy, con-
sisting of 70t) sumpter horses, 700 carts, and five
hundred waggons, all loaded with provisions, and
escorted by 3Q0O men.

For the poudre of this charging
No might man see sonne shining.

Indeed the dust was considerably increased by
the number of fugitives from the whole neighbour-
ing country, who,wwi<h shrieks whicli '* shrilled

268 MERLIN^ PART II.

into the clouds^** attempted to escape from their
burning houses^ and from the indiscriminate
slaughter exercised by the spoilers. Gawain*8
small army afforded a retreat to these firightened
peasants^ and a rallying point to about 500 soldiers
^ho were also flying before the enemy 3 and from
these he learnt the absence of Arthur^ who was
then conducted by Merlin to the assistance of
Leodegan j the general desolation of the country 5
and the necessity of a speedy effort to retrieve the
affairs of the Britons. A single charge firom
Grawain*s impetuous cavalry was sufficient to re-
cover the convoy, whicli was instantly dispatched
to London 3 and the escort, though much more
numerous than the assailants, being thrown into
confusion by this very unexpected attack, were so
rapidly cut to pieces, that no more than twenty
men were able to escape, and to carry to the
neighbouring army of Saracens the news of this
astonishing disaster. Their panic indeed was ex-
cusable, as they had never encountered any enemies
at all comparable to these youthful heroes, and par-
ticularly to the formidable Gawain :

For arme hone, y-wrought with hoUd^
Ogain his dent no mighte stond.

MERLIN^ PART U« 963

So dust in windfr and aboutedroffl
.• •• ' " . . . ./ "'•' ^'
. The author here takes ooibasRm to inform us of a
circumstance^ very noU»:ious at the time of thes^
events, and certainly no less carious than important,
viz. that the strength of Gawaih, though always
surpassmg that of common m^n, was subject to
considerable oscillations depending on the projgress
of the sun. From nine in the tnomirig till noon^
his muscular powers were doubled ; from thence
till three o'clock in the afternoon th^jr relapsed
into their ordinary state f from^' three till the time
of even-song they were again doubled 5 after
which this preternatural accession of strength again
subsided till d^-break. The poet therefore had
reason to relate with some exultation that this great
victory, was acliieved about noon, or sHortl^ after.

In the mean time, one half of the twenty
paynims who had escaped feH in vnth d body of
9even thousand unbelieving Irishmen, add brought
them back to the attack- of the five princes and of
their little army. Xjawain^ singling out a king
called Choas, who was 14 feet high, began the
battle by splitting him from the crown of the head
to the breast. Galachin encountered king Sanigran^

* crumbled to powder. f drove.

264 MERLINj PAHT II.

who was also very huge^ and cut pfFhis head. Agra**
vain^ haying no kings immediately within his
reach^ amused himself with the necks of plebeians^
which he cut through by dozens at a time« till he
formed a circle of dead bodies to his satisfaction.
Gaheriet was employed in the same manner^ when
he was called off from this vulgar prey by the de-
sire of killing a certain king Grinbat^ whom he saw
in the act of overthrowing his brother Gueheret.
Grinbat^ who had witnessed Gaheriet*s prowess^
wished to decline the contest^ and galloped off the
£eld at full speed till he reached a valley, where
a fresh army of 80CX) paynims, conducted by the
other ten fugitives^ was advancing to join the
battle. Here he expected to find refugee but
Gaheriet^ pursuing him into the press, discharged a
blow at him which cut off a quarter of bis helmet,
one of his cheeks, a shoulder, and an arm. The
young prince now attempted, in his turn, to re-
treat ', but though he easily cut bis way through
the enemy,- he was closely pursued by numbers,
till at length, his horse being killed under him, he
was compelled to fight singly and on foot against a
host of enemies.

Fortunately, one of his attendants, who had witt
nessed his impetuous pursuit of Grinbat, fore-f
jaw the danger, and hastened to Gawain with the

MiBRLIN^ PART II. 36^

intelligence. That prince^ his two brothers^ and
Galachin instantly flew to the rescue of Gaheriet^
bore down or killed all before Ihem^ and at length
found the hero on the ground^ nearly exhausted
by heat and ^tigue^ and surrounded by a crowd of
vulgar enemies^ who had already begun to unlace
his helmet^ and were preparing to cut off his head;
when they were diverted from their purpose by the
sudden amputation of their own. Gaheriet being
now supplied with a fresh horse, the five knights
made a desperate charge, cut their way out, and,
though liarassed in their retreat, rejoined their
little army.

In the mean time, the convoy which they had
intercepted and sent to London having reached
that city in safety, the constable or mayor, whose
name was Sir Do, learnt the very unequal conflict
in which the young princes were engaged; and
having proceeded to Al gate, where he blew his horn,
and thus collected the several aldermen of the city
with their respective wards, amounting to 700O
men, ordered them to arm, and, leaving 2000 to
guard the city, put himself at the head of 5000
and marched out to the rescue of Gawain. It was
npw past three o'clock ; and Gawain's strength be-
coming doubled, he astonished friends and foes by
his supernatural prowess.

966 MSRLIN^ PART IT.

In blood he stode, ich it dbmve*,
Of horse and man into the anclowe.
That he hadde him selve y-slawe,
Wtthjouten sleight of hisfelawe f .

In tills situation he saw a pagan on the point of
killing his brother Agravain^ and suddenly leaping
two-and-twenty feet over the heads of his own
assailants, clove the misbelieving wretch to the
girdle, and, springing into the empty saddle, again
dashed into the midst of his enemies.

The arrival of the Londoners soon decided the
content. Gimbating, one of the Saracen kings,
was already slain > Medelan, hia associate in the
command, after felling Sir Do,, was killed by
Gawain; and the troops, now without a leader,
fled in all directions, and were slaughtered without
resistance. The princes, havmg thus in one day
annihilated three armies of the enemy, proceeded
to London, where Gawain directed Sir Do to divide
the whole booty amongst the citizens, and thus
added considerably to the acclamations with which
they had already welcomed their noble deliverers.

* I maintain it, avow it to be true,
f Besides the slaughter made by his companioni. ^

MERLIN, PART II. 967

CANTO V.

March is hot, miri, and long ;
Fp^les singen her song ;
By rainis medes greeneth j
Of every thing the hert keeneth.

Arthur departed from Breckenho and arrived
at Carohaise, the capital of Carmelide, attended
only by Merlin, and by .39 knighty whom the
magician had selected, for that service. Leodegan
was at that moment, sitting in council with his
knights of the round .table, .250 in number, who
had all beea nominated by Uther Pendragon, and
placed under the. command of Heminhe rivel and
Millot the IrowTiy two knights of approved valour
and experience : and they were then endeavouring,
but with little prospect of success, to devise means
of resisting the impending attack from Ryance
king of Ireland, who, with Id tributary kings and
an almost innumerable army, had nearly surround-
ed the city, and was preparing to assault the walls.

Merlin halted his company at the door of the
council-hall, caused them to idight, and marched
them in procession up to the throne, where Ban
was directed to address the king in a speech which
he bad previously learned at^reckenho. And here

f68 MERLIN^ PART II.

the author thinks that it will be very comfortable
to his hearers to know the names of the illustrious
characters who formed this procession j thej are
as follow :

Arthur was supported on his right by king Ban,
and on his left by king fiohort 5 the rest followed
hand in hand, but in pairs. These were. Sir
Antour, Sir Ulfin, Sir Bretel, Sir Kay, Sir Lucan,
Sir Do, son of tlie mayor of London, Sir Grifles,
Sir Maroc, Sir Drians of the forest sanvage. Sir
Belias of maiden castle. Sir Flandrin, Sir Lam-
mas, Sir Amours the brown. Sir Ancales the red.
Sir Bleobel, Sir Bleoberis, Sir Canode; Sir Ala-
dan the crisp. Sir Colatides, Sir Lampades, Sir
Lercas, Sir Christopher of the roche north. Sir
Aigilin, Sir Calogrenand, Sir Angusale, Sir
Agravel, Sir Cleodes the foundling. Sir Ginures
of Lambale, Sir Kehedin, Sir Merengis, Sir
Gomain, Sir Craddock, Sir Claries, Sir Bhehartis,-
Sir Amadan the orgulous. Sir Oroman hardy of
heart, Sir Galescound, and SirBleheris, a gxxlson
of king Bohort. Merlin, who bore the white rod
before Arthur, completed the nimiber.

Those who may be disposed to glance their eye
slightingly over this edifying catalogue should be
told, that the names thus divulged to them were
carefully concealed from king TiCodegan 3 and thai

HBRLIN^ PART II. QQQ

Ban was only permitted to tell hitn^ in answer to his
many inquiries respecting this noble troop, that
*^ they were strangers who came to offer him their
services in his wars, but under the express con-
dition that they should be at liberty to conceal their
names and quality, until they should think proper
to give him further information." These terms
were thought \ery strange and unprecedented,
but were thankfully accepted j and the strangers,
after taking the usual oath to the king, retired to
the lodging which Merlin had prepared for them,

A few days after this, the enemy, regardless of
a truce into which they had entered with Leodegan,
suddenly issued fi*om their camp to the number of
60,000 men 3 made an unexpected attempt to sur-
prise tlie city J and, being disappointed, spread
themselves over the country, and, after carrying off
as much booty as tliey could collect, proceeded to
put all the inhabitants to the sword. On this
alarm Cleodalis, the king's steward, assembled
the royal forces with all possible dispatch 5 these
amounted to about 5000 men. The 250 knights
of the round table soon joined him, and waited for
the king*s orders. Arthur and his companions also
flew to arms 5 and Merlin appeared at their head,
bearing a standard which excited, and not without
reason, universal astonishment.

270 MERLIN; PART II.

Opon the top stode a dragoun^
S withe griselkb, with* a litel crorin j
Fast him beheld alle in the town !
For the mouthe he hadde grinninge^
And the tonge ou/-p/a/^ft^/
That out kest sparkes of fer.
Into the skies thot flowen cler.
1%is dragoun hadde a longe taile^
That was wither^hooked* sans fatle.
Merlin cam to the gate;
And bade tlie porter him out late.

The porter, of course, refused, and I'equested
him to await the king's orders 5 but Merlin, taking
up the gate witli all its appurtenances of locks,
bolts, iron bars, &c., directed his troop to pass
through; after which he, without dismounting,
replaced it in perfect order, set spurs to his horse,
and dashed at the head of his little troop into a
body of 2000 Saracens who were leading to their
camp a convoy of provisions. To discomfit these
miscreants, and to retake the convoy, was the work
of about twenty minutes ; but on their return to-
wards the city they met a second convoy of a
thousand carts escorted by 16,000 men. The dis-
parity of numbers being so enormous. Merlin

• griselichj griesly. oiU'ilatiiiig, oiling out. fer, fire.
tcither-hookedf (wickedly hooked,) probably harhed,

MERLIN, PART II. ^Ji

thought it worth while to cast a spell amongst tlie
enemy, whom his troop charged with their usual
gallantry, and proceeded to cut in pieces with all
possible expedition. Bat the people in the city,
who beheld this strangely unequal contest, were
ashamed of leaving the srnall body of strangers to
their fate.

Tho were up^-undone the gate ;
Cleodalis rode out tlierat.
The steward, with five thousinde,
Opon the paynims gun to wende.
There was din ! tliere was cry I
Many shaft broken, sikerly.
For, in the coming of Cleodalis,
The payens 7nigkt sen*, y wis.
There was swiche contek and wonder.
That it dinned so tlie thunder.

Leodegan, at the same time, charged at the
head of two thousand picked men» and of fifty
knights of his round table, and the remaining 200
knights formed a third separate division of his small
army. But the Saracens, having at length united
all their forces, were enabled to oppose to each of
these divisions a prodigious superiority. The
knights of the round table, unable to bear up

* mi^ht «ee ; i. e. they recovered their sight.

27^ MERLIN^ PAUT It*

against the multitude of their opponents^ tilade a
desperate stand under the city walls ^ and while
Cleodalis with the assistance of Arthur and his
companions was gaining some slight advantages,
the division commanded by the king in person was
completely surrounded, and the monarch himself
borne down and carried off by the enemy. Five
hiuidred picked knights were chosen to conduct
him to the camp of Ryance, whilst his attendants,
though fighting with desperation, were unable to
effect his rescue.

His dochter stode on the city wall.
And beheld this misaventure all.
Her hondes she set on her hair.
And her fair tresses all to-tare.
She her to-tare to her smok.
And on the wal her heved gan knok.
And swooned oft, and said. Alias !

But Merlin, aware of what passed in every part
of the field, suddenly collected his knights, led
them out of the battle, intercepted the passage of
the five hundred who had conveyed away Leodegan,
and, charging them with irresistible impetuosity,
soon cut in pieces or dispersed the whole escort.
The strokes of Arthur, Ban, Bohort, &c. fell
'^ like hail on the shingles ,** and Merlin having

MERLIN, PART tl. S73

now near five hundred vacant horses, and as maiiy
suits of excellent armour, at his disposal, hastily-
equipped tlie king, and, leaving Cleodalis to fight
as well as he could, returned at full speed to the
city walls, and fell '' like a northern tempest" on
the rear of the victorious Saracens.

The knights of tlie round table were, by this
time, almost all unhorsed ; but the very welcome
sight of Merlin's fiery dragon, and the joyfiil shouts
firom the walls which hailed the unexpected return
of their captive monarch, inspired them with fi-esh
courage, and spread alarm through the ranks of
the Saracen?. The terrible '* forty-two'' overcame,
like a torrent, all opposition j and the boldest
leaders of tlie Paynims, in attempting to check its
progress, successively met their destruction. Cau-
lang, a giant fifteen feet high, encountered Arthur :
and the fair Guenever, who already began to feel
a strong attachment to the handsome stranger,
trembled for tlie issue of the contest 5 when the
British monarch, dealing a dreadful blow on the
sho\ilder of the monster, divided him to the navel
so accurately, that the two sides hung down on op-
posite sides of his horse, and he was thus carried
about the field to the great horror of the Saracens.
Guenever could not refrain from expressing aloud
her wish, that the gentle bachetor who carved giantu

VOL. I. T

274 MERLIN^ PART II.

SO dexterously were destined to become her hus-r
band -, and the wish was re-echoed by her atten-
dants. King Ban dispatched a second giant in a
nearly similar manner 3 and Bohort meeting a thirds
who was standard-bearer to the anny^ cut away his
shoulder, arm, and banner j after which the enemy
began to fly with precipitation, and were closely
pursued by Leodcgan and his attendants.

But the Saracens had still in the field two large
armies 3 one commanded by a king called Saphiran,
who was opposed to Cleodalis, consisting of about
14,000 men 3 and a second, led by a certain king
Somegrex, amounting to 8000, including the
fugitives who had rallied round him. Merlin led
his forty-two against the latter, and was shortly
joined by the 250 knights of the round table, who
had now supplied themselves with fresh horses;
but as the heathens made a stout resistance, he
directed his followers to txirn their whole efforts
against ten giant-champions on whom the Sara-
cens placed their principal reliance. These, with
Somegrex at their head, being soon dispatched,
the christian knights quickly spread destruction
through the rest, and drove them like straw before
the wind. Yet even this victory was inefficient, be-
cause the beaten army took refuge with that of Saphi-
ran^ who by dint of numbers had already driven Cleo-

MERLIN, PART II. 275

dalis under the walls of the city, and began to anti-
cipate the total destruction of the christian forces.

Merlin, though aware that no time was to be
lost, ordered his knights to alight for a few mo-
ments, to relieve their horses, and then led them
to this fresh contest. Cleodalis, who had ex-
hausted all the arts of a commander, was almost in
despair, when he was cheered by a general shout
from the walJs, announcing the rapid approach of
the fire-casting dragon, of Leodegan, and of the
knights of the round table. The first charge of the
forty-two was, as usual, irresistible ; but Saphiran,
who far surpassed all the Saracen kings in skill and
valour, summoning round him his best knights,
made a desperate attack upon these new assailants,
and had the honour of breaking into this hitherto
untouched phalanx, and of unhorsing many of
Arthur's bravest champions. He then again re-
turned, broke into them a second time, bore
Leodegan to the ground, slew his horse, and was
only prevented from killing him by the timely in-
terposition of Arthur, who vented his rage in im-
precations of vengeance against the infidel ; while
Merlin, boiling with impatience, exclaimed,

'^ What abidest thou ? coward king !
'^ The paien give anon meeting !"

376 MERLIN^ PART II.

Arthur, stung with this unexpected reproach^
flew to meet Saphiran, whose spear was so strong
and well directed that it pierced his shield and
hauberk, and wounded him in the side -, but his
lance at the same time passed through the body of
Saphiran.

Quath Arthur, " Thou hethen cokein,
*^ Wende to the devil Apolin !"
The payen fel dede to ground ;
His soul laught* hellf- hound !

Ban, who on this occasion had first trembled for

the days of his friend ) Bohort, Kay, and the other

worthies, now exerted themselves so well that the
remaining leaders of the Saracens were soon dis-
patched 3 and the victory was so complete, that only
500 survivors of this terrible day were able to
reach tlie camp pf Ryance.

The immense booty gained from the heathens
was, by the king's order, presented to Arthur,
who divided the whole amongst the subjects of
Leod^an, having first particularly enriched the host
with whom he had hitherto lodged, and whose
house he now left for apartments at the palace.
He was disarmed, and conducted to the bath by the
princess Guenever, while his friends were attended

• caught.

MERLIN^ PART 11. 277

by the other ladies of the court. Amongst these
was a second Guenever, an illegitimate daughter of
Leodegan^ and so nearly resembling the princess
that it was difficult to distinguish them. Her
mother, a lady of exquisite beauty and maid of
honour to the queen, had been married to Cleodalis,
but, during his absence on some embassy, had re-
sumed her functions, and habitually slept in the
royal apartment. The queen, a woman of ex-
emplary devotion, constantly rose to attend matins 5
and the amorous monarch had contrived on these
x>ccasions to indemnify himself for her absence, and
to share the bed of her attendant 3 whom, after
the birth of a little Guenever, he secreted from her
husband, and whom he continued to reseiTe as an
occasional substitute for his devout consort, with-
out exciting, as it should seem, any violent indig-
nation in the tranquil Cleodalis.

The knights were now conducted to a magnifi-
cent entertainment, at which they Were diligently
served by the sanie fair attendants. Leodegan,
more and more anxious to know the name and
quality of his generous deliverers, and occasionally
forming a secret wish that the chief of his guests
might be captivated by the charms of his daughter,
appeared silent and pensive, and was scarcely
roused from his reverie by the banters of his cour«>

278 MERLIN, PART II.

tiers. Arthur, having had sufficient opportunities
of explaining to Guenever, with that obscurity and
circumlocution whjch a growing passion always
inspires, his great esteem for her merit, was in the
joy of his heart j and was still more delighted on
learning from Merlin the late exploits of Sir Gawain
in Britain J by means of which his immediate re-*
turn to his dominions was rendered unnecessary,
and he was left at liberty to follow those propensities
which led him to protract his stay at the court of
Leodegan.

CANTO VI.

Listenetli now, fele and few ;
In May the sunne felleth dew }
The day is miri, and draweth along ;
The lark arereth her song -,
To meed goth the damisele.
And faire flowers gadreth fele.

The poet now proceeds to describe the miseries
to which the confederate kings in opposition to
Arthur were exposed by the Saracen or Saxon
invasion 3 but, unluckily, his geography is so very
confused, that it is impossible to understtod the

MERLIN, PAAT II. 279

position of the various battles which he paints with
great minuteness.

Cradelnian^ king of North Wales, was first
alarmed for the safety of his dominions, by the in-
formation that the enemy had landed in great force
on both sides of Arundel, a city which, according
to this romance, was not in Sussex but in Corn-
wall. Cradelman, taking with him ten thousand
men, one half of which he confided to the com-
mand of his steward Polydamas, attacked the
pagans during the night, completely surprised
them, and made a great slaughter ; but the fugitives,
having escaped to the neighbouring territories of
Carmile, brought back a most powerful reinforce-
ment, by which Cradelman was in his turn very
nearly overpowered ; but was finally rescued from
destruction by a well directed sally of the garrison
of Arundel, and by the assistance of tlie king of
the hundred knights, who had accidentally heard
the news of the invasion. The spoils of the enemy's
camp were carried in triumph into Arundel.

About the same time,

Ther comen up, fer on north.
Ten riche soudans of grete worth }

^nd these soudans, whose ames are carefully enu-
merated, directed their forces, amounting to a mil-
6

280 MERLIN, )>AIIT II.

lion and a half of men, against Anguisant king of
Scotland. Anguisant was then in his city of Cor
manges, and, hearing that tlie whole plain country
was .occupied by the infidels, hastily levied a body
of 15,000 men, and riding to an eminence beheld
the extensive desolation of his territories.

His men there he shift a-two ;

Half he toke himself, and mo.

And halvendel he tok Gaudin,

That was knight hardi and fin.

That sithen, of his mighty hand.

Wan that maiden of the douke Brauland.

This little army performed prodigies of valour,
but were finally overpowered by the enormous
superiority of numbers. Leaving 9OOO pf his
followers on the field^. Anguisant with great
difficulty led bacl^ the remaining six to his fortified
pity J nor could he have effected this retreat but for
the timely assistance of Urien, who, accompanied
by his nephew Baldemagus, fell upon the rear
of the Saracens with a body of 12,000 picked
soldiers.

Ther was mani heved off tveved.
And many to the middle cleved y

MERLIN^ PART 11. 681

And mani of his horse y-lust;
For sothe, there ros so michel dust.
That of the sunne, schene and bright.
No man might have no sight.
Here and there cri, and honteye * !
Men might hem heren thre mile way !

The approach of night separated the combatants,
Urien, on his return, unexpectedly fell upon a
valuable convoy of the enemy, escorted by about
8000 men, who were tlien unarmed and at table.
He charged them, cut the escort to pieces with-
out opposition, and carried off the convoy.

While this was passing in the north, Sagremor,
who had embarked at Constantinople for the pur-
pose of receiving the order of knighthood from
king Arthur, arrived in Sussex with seven hundred
noble companions who were ambitious of the same
honour. They found the whole country over-run
by a Saracen army under the command of king
Oriens ; but, having collected about 500 adventurers
whom they blended with their little troop, de-
teimined, with more boldness than wisdom, to
cut their way through these infidels. They had
scarcely formed this resolution, when an old churl,
accosting Gawain, who was still in London, in-

* confusion.

282 MERLIN, PART II.

formed him that Sagremor was on the point of
being surrounded and killed ; urged him to hasten^
.with such forces as he could raise^ to his assistance ;
and promised to conduct him by a very short route
to the place of combat. To confirm his intelligence^
he presented some letters apparently written by
Sagremor J and Gawain was almost immediately
ready to depart at the head of 15,000 citizens, who
were joined on the march by numbers of volun-
teers, whilst the old churl conducted them with-
out the least interruption^ through roads unknown
to the enemy, till they reached the field of battle.

Sagremor and his companions had successfiilly
cut their way through some twenty thousands of
miscreants^ but at last found themselves, by repeated
exertions of almost miraculous valour, hemmed in
on all sides by the innumerable host of their assail-
ants. They were then reduced to despair, and
almost on the point of throwing down their arms,
when tlieir spirits were restored by the unexpected
appearance of Gawain and his brethren, who joined
them at the first charge, after killing or oversetting
sixteen thousand infidels. Then

Mani monthe the gras hot*.

And griselich yened f, God it wot!

* bit. f yawned frightfully.

MERLIN, PART II. ^83

Payens floated in her blod !
Ever is Christis mighte good.

Gawain, having luckily encountered king Oriens,
gave him a blow on his helmet which threw him to
the ground in a swoon, and was preparing to pursue
his victory ; when an imknown knight, suddenly
accosting him in an imperious tone, ordered him
to sound a retreat, and to lead his army to Camalot
Gawain obeyed, and had conducted his. troops about
a mile 5 when Oriens, recovering from his trance,
called for a fresh horse and a new suit of armour,
and galloped at the head of 60,000 cavaliers to
intercept the Christians. The result however was,
that he was thrown into a second swoon by a blow
from the sword of Gawain 5 and though the hard-
ness of his skull and helmet resisted this repetition
of the experiment, a considerable number of his
best generals were slain around him by Gaheriet,
Agravain, Galachin, Gueheres and Sagremorj and
the Christians made good their retreat within the
walls of Camalot, where the arrival of Sagremor
was celebrated by all kinds of rejoicing.

Oriens, whose bruises did not tend to soften
the ferocity of his temper, finding that it was
hopeless to attempt the siege of Camalot, led his
army into the territory of Caubemic, belonging to

S84 MERLIN^ PART II.

Estas duke of Arundel, spoiled the whole country,
and carried his ravages into the adjoining states
belonging to king Clarion. Estas repa*u*ed to this
monarch for the purpose of consulting him on the
means of resisting, or at least of harassing, their
inexorable enemy ; and ^fter a long discussion^
which it is not worth while to repeat, they agreed
to take post, with as many troops as they could
levy, in the great forest of Rockingham, and there
to watch an opportunity of taking their revenge
on the Saracens.

CANTO VII.

In May is miri time swithe j
Foules in wode hem maken blithe ;
In every lond arist * song -,
Jesus Christ be ous among.

The business of this short canto is not very in-
teresting. The combined troops of duke Estas and
of king Clarion, having chosen a station in the
forest where sevefi roads met, soon discovered 4

convoy—

* arises.

MERLIN^ PART II. £85

Full of ich maner prey 5

Of venisoun, and flesch, and brede.

Of brown ale, and win white and rede.

Of baudekins, and purple pall.

Of gold and silver, and cendal :

and suddenly attacking the escort of 5000 horse-
men, put them all to the sword, and seized the
' convoy, which they lodged in safety within the
walls of Arundel. In returning from this capture
they had an encounter with 15,000 Saracens,
whom they also attacked and dispersed, after killing
two or three giants who commanded them : but
foreseeing that the enemy would be constantly
strengthened by fresh reinforcements, they pru-
dently secured their means of retreat into the.
forest. Oriens, on hearing of their success, became,
as usual, very ferocious.

" Ah Mahoun !*' said Oriens, " tho
'* Thou n' art a god worth a sloe !
" Therefore the folk thou dost no gode,
*' So for Christen doth her Gode !"

He then ordered forty thousand men to surround
and destroy these insolent Christians 5 but they had
already taken their measures, and, under cover of

286 MERLIN^ PART lU

the forest and of the night, retired with little loss
to their several fastnesses.

CANTO VIII,

Mirie it is in somer's tide 5
Foules sing in forest wide ;
Swaines gin on justing ride j
Maidens lifFen hem in pride.

We have seen, that though Arthur had carried
with him, to the assistance of Leodegan, the
flower of British chivalry, a new race of heroes
had since started up for the defence of the country.
Gawain, his cousin Galachin, and his three brothers,
together with Sagremor, already ranked with the
most experienced commanders 3 and a new cham-
pion, the celebrated Ywain, was soon added to
the number. It will be remembered thai Urien

Hadde spoused Hermesent,

Blasine sister and Belisent.

Thai had a yong man hem bitwen,

Michel Ywain, a noble stren *,

He was ycleped michel Ywain,

For he hadde a brother knight, certain.

Bast Ywain he was yhote.

For he was bigeten ahastf, God it wote.

* child. f in bastardy.

MERLIN^ PART II. 887

Urien, by another quen.

Yet hadde bigeten a gentil stren.

That was hoten Morganor 5

A gode knight by Godis ore*.

He hadde made him in al heir

To the lond that of him com, veirf.

The lond tliat com of Hermesent

Was Ywain's, thurgh right descent.

Mickle Ywain made the same request to Her-
mesent which Galachin and Gawain had addressed
to Blasine and Belisent^ and was, like them,
strongly encouraged to forward a reconciliation
between Arthur and his father Urien. Hermesent
provided for him a hundred knights, and three
hundred young bachelors, candidates, like him-
self, for the order of knighthood, with a proper
supply of horses and armour -, and Ywain, having
received the maternal benediction, departed with
his bastard brother, and began his march," all by the
forest of Bedingham, toward Arundel, in Cornwall."
His road lay through the territories of king Yder j
but they were at that time over-run by innume-
rable swarms of Saracens 5 and their ravages were
so extensive that the report of them reached the ears
of Gawain, who immediately marched to the re-

* mercy. f truly.

£88 MERLIN^ PART II.

«Cue of Yder at the head of 30,000 men 5 and,
passing from London through Carduel, Arrived at
Bedingham about the time when Ywain qtiitted it
on his way to Arundel. Yder himself at the same
moment resolved on trying the fate of a battle with
the enemy ; and, putting himself at the head of
15,000 men, was accidentally encountered by the
rear guard of the great Saracen army. Yder>
though he perceived the superior numbers of the
heathen forces, attacked them without hesitation,
'broke them, and was making a dreadful carnage of
the unbelievers, — ^when he was suddenly attacked
by another division of their army, and owed his
escape, together with that of a few attendants, to
an unexpected diversion produced by Ywain, who
issuing from the forest, and seeing the whole open
country covered with enemies, instantly attacked
the first who came in his way.

Ywain and his bastard brother were Jtccompanied
by a knight of great courage and experience named
Ates, who quickly discovered, that, having passed
a bridge, the only one which was to be found
between Arundel and the forest which they had left,
and tliis bridge having been immediately occupied
by the Saracens, they had no longer any possibility
of retreat. But the young bachelors made no re-
flections. By a desperate charge these four hundred

HERLIK^ PART II. 989

destroyed 5000 infidels ; and^ finding themselves
fetill " whole and sound," began to anticipate a
splendid and complete victory.

At this time a little knave delivered to Gawain
a letter, which he professed to bring from Ywain j
and he, having perused it, immediately called to
arms, and, dividing a part of his troops into five bodies
of 3000 each, gave the command of them to Sa-
gremor, Galachin, and his three brothers, taking to
himself the conduct of the rear guard consisting
of 8000.

The knave taught her way sikerlich.

Thai riden wel serrelich*;

Ther gilt penscl, with the wind

Mirie ratled, of cendal ynde.

The stedes, so noble and so wight,

Lopen and neighed with the knight.

These beth alle so fast coming ;

The children, that whiles, wer fighting, &c.

But to fight against such superiority of numbers
as then assailed them was nearly hopeless, because
.they were gradually encompassed and attacked in
every direction. Ywain now felt the consequences
of the mistake which the more prudent Ates had
discovered long before 5 and, in the hope of re-

* closely; serr4 Fr.
VOL. I. U

996 MERLIN^ PART II.

medying it, proposed that tbej should unite all
their efforts in one direction f make a violent charge
towards the river j and, if it should prove fordable,
retreat through it into the forest. But they were
disappointed. The high banks of the river pre-*
.vented all hope of escape, and beyond it they dis'*
• covered fresh swarms of the enemy hastening to-
wards the bridge. At this moment of desperation
they beheld Agravain, who led the van of Gawain*s
forces, advancing rapidly to their assistance. They
now again turned their horses, and, making a second
effort, cut their way through the infidels, and
joined their friends. The battle, being con^
stantly supplied with fresh combatants by the suc-
cessive succours of Gueheret, Gaheriet, Galachin,
Sagremor, and Gawain, who were opposed by new
reinforcements which arrived in the heathen army,
was continued with great obstinacy ; and our poet,
who is never tired of describing such scenes, has
panted every circumstance of the combat with the
minuteness of an eye-witness, md with a degree
of delight and satisfaction in which the modem
reader would not easily participate. Suffice it to
say, that, the sun approaching the meridian,
Gawain*s strength became double; and that of
Ywain and the other christian heroes being little
diminished, they made as extensive a carnage

MERLIN^ PART II« 39t

amongst the infidels as the worst enemy of paganismi
i:ould conscientiously wish to contemplate^ and
then marched iil triumph and leaded with spoil to
their former quarters at Bedingham.

Here Gawain was much surprised to learn that
the letters ^' written in Latin,*' which had brought
him so opportunely to the assistance of Ywain,
were counterfeits. The reader is probably aware
that the " little knave '* who brought these letters,
the " old churl** who had announced the danget of
Sagremor, and the unknown knight who advised
the timely retreat into Arundel, were the same
person ; and that Merlin, under these and similaiT
disguises,^ superintended all the enterprises of the
British heroes during the absence of Arthur^
After refreshing themselves during a few days at
Bedingham, they were ag^in summoned in great
haste to Arundel.

Kaydestran andKehedin, two noble young ba<*
chelors, with twenty-seven companions, arHving
Dnthin sight of the walls, fell in with a party of tht,
enemy, whom they instantly overthrew j but, being
at length surrounded by greater numbers, . and i»
imminent danger of being Raptured, were rescued
by a sally of three hundred young men from the.
garrison of the city. The leaders g{ this little band
were Ywain with the white hand, Ytvain of hyvnesi

ifgS MERLIN^ PARt tl.

Ywidn delavis le hel, Ywmn qf Strdngore, and
Dedivel the savage; all bachelors of Approved
courage^ and all related to the family of €rawain.
But before they could make good their retreat the
whole were enveloped. At this instant Ga^'ain
arrived^ and of course vanquished the infidels,
rescued the christian warriors, and was preparing
to pursue the enemy, when Merlin, in the shape
of an old knight, ordered him to enter Arundel
with his young kinsmen^ and there to wait for furthef
instructions.

The infidels finding that the Britons could tiot ht
attacked with advantage in that part of the cotintry,
suddenly united all their forces, and marching
northwards poured into Lothian, tlie territory of
king Lot. That monarch, advancing against them
with twenty thousand men, gained a great and
bloody victory j but, having pursued his advantage
too far, was totally defeated in his turn by a fi^h
army, and forced to take refuge, with only three
thousand of his followers, in the city of Dorkeine.
In this extremity he resolved, by the advice of his
council, to make his way to the strong citadel
of Glocedoine 5 to deposit there his wife Belisent
and his in^t son Modred, and to wait a more
fiivourabla opportunity of recovering his domi-
nioQi*

MERLIN^ PART II. 293

Gawain was perfectly unconscious of the deplo*
xable situation of his father^ and was carelessly
leaning with his companions on the walls of
Arundel^ when a strange knight^ accoutred at all
points^ called to him precipitately to arm^ and
offered to conduct him to a scene where his
assistance was wanted at that moment. Neither
Gawain nor any of his companions knew Merlin in
this disguise ) but^ having exacted from him an oath
that his tale was strictly true, they hastily collected
their forces, put themselves under his guidance^
and galloped off in search of this unknown ad-
venture.

In passing through a forest they met a knight
coming towards them at full speed, and bearing in
his arms a child> whom Gawain at once recognised
as his brother Modred. The knight informed them
that Lot, having been surprised during his march,
was severely wounded, apd perhaps killed or taken ;
that Belisent was in the hands of the enemy at a
very small distance; and that he, having witb
difficulty rescued the infant, was attempting to
bear him to some place of safety. Gawain ordered
the knight to follow his troops, and, keeping them
concealed in the forest, cautiously proceeded to-
wards the field of battle ; where he soon discovered
the infidel king, named Taurus, who, having seized

9§f4 ^BRLlk^ PART II.

ill tedy by the bosses of her hair, was endeavouring
thus to draw her up and to fix her on his horse.
This was Belisent. Her piteous cries for m^rcy
feached the ears and thrilled the heart of Gawain^
but, being mixed with invocations of the holy
Virgin, drew down repeated buffets from the fist
of the ruffian who held her. She fell from the
horse*s back j but Taurus still sustained h^r by the
hair, scourged her, and bade her follow on foot ;
and when fh>m weakness she entangled her feet in
her long robes, and fell to the ground, he dis-
mounted, tied her tresses to his horse's tail, and
thus prepared to ride off with his mangled victini.
But an attendant, seeing the rapid approach of
Gawain, suddenly cut the lady's hair, and disen-
g9ged his master from this encumbrance.

Wawain with spors his 8t?ed© smot.
And he forth sterte, Grod it wot.
He gred aloud to king Taurous,

'' Abide ! thou thief malicious !

" Biche-son ! thou drawest amiss !

« Thou sbalt abeye it ywiss !"

AcODrdingly, though Taurus was of die stfyaie
gigantic dimensions with the rest of the infidel
chiefs, Gawaia passed his spear through hk shiefci.

MERLIN, PART II, 29*

haoberk and heart, and threw him dead amongst
his troops, who were speedily extemiinated to a
man. Belisent, who had fallen into a swoon, was
not a little surprised, on first c^jening her eyes, to
find herself attended by her four sons ; and her
wonder and joy were complete, when, having ex-
pressed her fears for the infant Modred, the child
was restored to her in health and safety. She then
related that Lot, with only three hundred knights^
had been attacked by many thousands of the enemy |
that after a long and desperate resistance he had
seen her torn from him by the miscreant Taurus^
and had only consulted his own safety by flight,
when, his attendants being nearly all killed, and
himself wounded in fifteen places, he could no
longer hope to render her any assistance.

Belisent was now placed on a litter ; and, being
supplied with all pos^ble conveniences from the
sumpter carts of Taurus, six hundred ia number,
which attended her march, was conveyed by easy
journeys to London, where she was received by the
gallant Sir Do, and lodged with proper magnificence
in the royal palace.

All these events, it is to be observed, were dictated
by Merlin himself to his old master Blaise, — so
that their veracity is unquestionable ; and we must
now follow Merlin to the court of Leodegau,

fg6 MERLIN^ PART II.

where he related them to Arthur and his com->
panions. He then condescended to inform the king^
that the motive of their visit to bis court had been
to procure a suitable wife for their gallant leader;
upon which Leodegan, going in search of Gue-
never, presented her to Arthur, telling him that,
whatever might be his rank, his merit was sufficient
to entitle him to the possession of the heiress of
Carmelide. Arthur having accepted the lady with
the utmost gratitude. Merlin then proceeded to
satisfy the king respecting the rank of his son-in-*
law 5 upon which Leodegan, with the knights of the
round table and his other barons, proceeded to do
homage to their legitimate suzerain, the successor
of Uther Pendragon. The beauteous Guenever
was then solemnly betrothed to Arthur; and a
magnificent festival was proclaimed, which lasted
seven days, and would have been protracted much
longer, but that, £:esh succours having arrived in
the camp of Ryance, it became necessary to prepare
for nulitary operations.

MERLIN^ PART II, f9J

CANTO IX.

Mine is June that scheweth flower }
The meden ben of swete odour j
Lily and rose of swete odour ;
The river clear withouten sour;
This damiseles love par amour.

The whole of this canto^ though it extends to
no less than 1 100 verses, is dedicated to the de-
scription of a single battle^ which ended in the
final discomfiture of king Ryance, and thereby
left Arthur at liberty to accomplish the great ad*
ventures to which he was destined. The troops o
Leodegan were marshalled by tlie particular advice
of Merlin : but we cannot discover any advantages
which resulted from the scientific distribution re-
commended by the magician -, the ultimate success,
being solely owing to the efibrts of individual valour.

It was a Monday^ festival of Pentecost, that had
been pre^ously chosen for this great contest. The
christian knights rose at day-break, and arrayed
themselves in their most sumptuous suits of armour,
which were ornamented with gold, silver, and
jewels. Arthur, always eager for battle, was
now doubly so, because he was to be armed by the

fgl MERLIN^ PART ^.

hands of the beauteous Gueneverj but, as the
pieces which composed this iron dress were very
numerous, and as the lady, on lacing on each, was
required to pay a kbs as the forfeit of her awkward-
ness, or to receive one as the reward of her dex-
terity, the length of the ceremony excited the
impatience of Merlin, who sternly enjoined the
young warrior to remember these kisses in the
hour of distress and difficulty.

The main body of the army was divided by Mer-
lin into seven parts of 7000 men each. Of the
first he tods: the personal directio;i, and in this
iKxiy were comprehended the formidable ^/brf5r-^«v>
and Ihe two hundred and fifty knights of tiie round
tMe 5 its niHnber being completed by a sdectioo
firom the bravest of Leodegan's vassals. The com?
m£ERders of the other six divisions were Gogenar^
Leodegan^s nephew ; Elmadas ; ^elich le blond ;
Yder of north-land j Kan^m, nej^w of Cleo->
dalis; and Gempore mole; and besides these, a
(Mfnall but choice^ army of reserve, consisthig. of
H),000 men, was led by I^odegan in person,
assisted by his good steward Cieodalis.

Merlin harangued the army, and promised them
finad success, notwithstanding the almost innume-
rable forces of the enemy, whom he proposed to
surprise in their camp. This carap, it seems, wa«

MERLIN^ PART II. ^99

(brtified on diree sides 5 on the south by a rampart
of wagons and carts^ and on the west and east by
a wall : '^ but,** said Merlin, " we shall attack
them on the eastern side^

*' And find hem sleepand, and sle downright,
'' For thai wer al dronken tonight."

He then detached ten knights, with orders tO
destroy all the scouts who might give information
of his approach ; and, having unfurled his banner
surmounted by the fiery dragon, advanced in silence
lb the camp, which he entered unperceived.

His first (^ration was to cast a spell into the
air, by virtue of which great numbers of the tenti
ftUdown on the heads of the sleeping infidels;
and it may be presumed, that those who were very
drunk were irrecoverably stifled. Those who were
more watchful or alert Were punished for their
sobriety by being trampled in their shirts under the
horses* feet, or pierced by the lances of the as^
gallants. Several jdiousands were thi^s slaughtered
before a man in the camp had time to put on his
armour. But at length a few knightfi appeared
round the tent of king Ryance 5 these were follow*
ed by more 5 and, their numbers continually in-*

300 MERLIN^ PART II.

creasing, they were enabled to face the christians^
and began *' one of the gi*eatest battles tliat ever
was smitten.*'

Passed was tlie day-springing.
The hot sunne was schining,
Tho began knightes riding,
Trumpes beting, tabours dassing,
Ther was fleing and withstonding.
Tiring, togging, and overthrowing !

Among the knights who^ distinguished them-
selves in this terrible day was one whom the author
is particularly desirous to recommend to the grate-
ful remembrance of his hearers. This was Nacien,
a knight of great prowess and merit, and allied to
many of the most renowned heroes of chivalry.
His mother was Hamignes^ sister to Joseph a
knight of grace, through whom he was cousin to
tlie noble Pertival *. His father was Ebron, who
had sixteen noore sons,^ all knights of great virtue ;
and through him Nacien was cousin to Celidoine
the rich, son of Nacien of Betica, which Celidoine
first saw all the mervail of the San Greal. Nacien
was also ^i^Z^e (i. e. related) to king Pelles of Iisto«

neis^

* Probably it should be PercevaL

MlSRLIN^ PART II. SOI

And sith then hadde Launcelot
In his ward almost a yer.

So THE ROMAUNS SEYTH ELLES WHERE*:

This NacienSj of whom y write,
Sith then bicom eremite )
And lette knightschippe and al thing.
And bicome preste, messe to sing.
Virgin of his bodi he was.
Whom sith then the holi Godes grace
Ravist into the thridde heven.
Where he herde angels' Steven ^ v

And seighe Fader, Son, and holi ghost,
* , In on substaance, in on acost.

This gave sith then the riche conseil

To the king Arthx)ur, saunfaile,

Tho he tvas in gret peril

To lese his londes, and hen exil,

Ogaines the king Galahos,

The geauntes sone, of gret los,

That gcff king Arthour batailing, &c.

Nacien was accompanied by Adregain the brown j
and these two had the honour of accompanying
Arthur in a desperate attack on the standard of king
Ryance, which represented four elephants witli

* All this information, as well as that which is alluded to
tn the subsequent passage in Italics, is now lost.

30S MERLIN^ PART II.

their castles. About this time the conflict became
general all over the field ; and the author has ex-
hausted his powers of description in painting the
horrors of the scene.

Al so thick the arwe schoten^
In sunne-beam so doth the nooten.
Gavehkes ^ al so thick flowe
Sognattes^ ichU alcnvef,
Ther was so michel dust rising
That sene ther n*as sunne schining.
The trumping and the tabouiing
Did togeder the knights fling.
The knights broken her speren j
On thre | thai smiten and to-terent
Knightes and stedes ther laien about^
The hevedes off smiten^ the guttes out^
Heveden, and fete, and armes, there
Lay strewed everich where
Under stedes* fete, so thick
In Crowe's nest so doth the stick.
Sum sterven, and sum gras gnowe § ;
The gode steden her guttes drewe,

* javelins. f I will avow or maintain.

f In three different directions-— or perhaps thre is from
threof vindictat Sax.

$ gnawed.

MERLIN. PART II. 303

< With blodi sadeJs in that pres. %

Of swiche bataile was no ses^.
To the night fram a morwe.
It was a bataile of gret sorowe !

' The main body of the christian army, being over-
powered by superior numbers, were at length
driven in confusion under the walls of Denebleise j
but again rallying drove back their pursuers, and
gave time to tlie knights of Arthur's company to
refresh themselves, and to relieve their horses,
who were incapable of carrying, during many
hours, the enormous weight of iron which cover-
ed their riders. Merlin then, having at leisure
taken his survey of the field, ordered his company
to mount, and led them at full speed to the part o€
the battle where he discovered the *' crowns and
beards,'* which were painted on the shield of king
Ryance.

Arthur, glad of encountering the Irish monarch,
made a violent blow at him, which cut off a quarter
of bis helmet, divided his shield, and, falling on
his shoulder, would have slit him to the middle,
had not the sword been stopped by the toughness
of a serpent's skin which he wore over his shirt.
He fell to- the ground : and though he was speedily

* cessation.

304 MEALIN^ PART II^

i^placed on his horse 5 though Arthur himself was
overthrown and unhorsed by the crowd of giants
who pressed forward to rescue their leader ; the
attack had been so well directed that the great
standard was taken^ the infidels who guarded it
dispersed in all directions, and Ryance at length,
after an obstinate conflict, was obliged to fly be-J
fore the victorious Arthur, who, singling him out
from his companions, pursued him incessantly, and
at length overtook him when on the point of joining
another division of his army. At this second en-
counter ttyance received a dangerous and painful
wound in the side, and dropped his excellent sword
called Marandoise, which became the prey of Arthur.
As Escalibore was certainly the best sword in the
world, Arthur seems to have had little occasion for
Marandoise : but there is perhaps a pleasure in cut-
ting off infidel heads with an infidel weapon ; and
in this pleasure Arthur indulged so long as his horse
was able to carry him. In the mean time. Merlin
had pursued a party of the flying enemy to a con-
siderable distance, and had cast an enchantment OD
them, by means of which they mistook a valley
which lay before them for a deep and spacious lake,
into which they declined to venture—

Hereafter sone, in this write.
Why he it did ye shal it wite.

M£RLIN^ PART II, 305

.i. *•

But unfortunately this important piece of infoJ*-
tnatioQ is lost to posterity, because the whole re^
mainder of the poera, as it. oow exists, is em-
ployed in describing the confused scene of slaughter
which followed tlie wound and flight of. king
Ryance.

The number of the infidels was still so greats and
the field of battle so extensive, that no eye but
that of a conjurer was capable of comprehending
the whole scene; and Merlin alone was aware,
that whilst the army of Leodegan was beginning to.
triumph in all quarters, the n>onarch himself was
in the greatest jeopardy. Being accidentally se^
parated from his body of knights, and attended only
by his faithful steward Cleodalis, he had been sud-
derily attacked by a large troop of the enemy, and
had seen his good steward unhorsed at the first oUr
set. A dreadfiil blow from Colocaulucon^ a huge
man, brought the king also to the ground, and
with such violence, that it was long before he began
to exhibit any signs of life. • Cleodalis however,

t[ho was already on his feet, bestrode the, body of
is master, and, wielding his sword on all sides,
manfully repelled the .crowd of assailants till the
king recovered his senses. . Leodfsgan now recol-
lected what the reader will perhaps have forgotten ;
viz. that he was then living in adultery with th«

VOL. I. jt

30tf MERLIN, PARt ir/

beautiful wife of this good steward, and, kneeling
before him, humbly implored his forgiveness in a
long oration, concluding with

'' For^e me now my trespas

'* That I thee have done^ alas !

" I pray thee, that never this misdede

*' My soul into belle lede !"

Cleodalis, of course, forgave hira as fast as he
could, not only because he wished to waive a dis-
agreeable subject, but because, as he properly observ-
ed to his master, their joint efforts were at this
moment very necessary to presence them both from
being killed or captured. In fact, they were al-
ternately felled to the ground so often, that their
strength was at last completely exhausted j and
they were on the point of being carried off by the
enemy, when Merlin, who probably knew exactly
their powers of endurance, and had been unwilling
to interrupt the very edifying scene of their recon-
ciliation, arrived with his knights, mounted theik
both on fresh horses, and in an instant destroyea
their pertinactous assailants. Arthur, Ban, Bo^
hort, Nacien, and their companions, who by Mer-
lin's directions had taken time to rest themselves
and their horses, now dispersed themselves over

MERLIN^ PART II. 307

the field, and cut to pieces all tlie infidel leaden
who fell in their way :

The other paiens flowen swithe,
, And our went again, bilive, -^

Into the cite of Carohaise^
With her feren hem made at aise ;
They maden grete bliss and fest.
And after, yeden hem to rest.

Thus ends this fragment of more than 10,000
lines ', the transcriber, as it should seem, thinking
that he also had a right to rest from his labour,
which he had not the courage to resume. The. re-
mainder of the column was occupied by part of
another romance, which, as Mr. Scott informs xxs,
is totally effaced.

X 2

310 MORTE ARTHUll.

The queen, after this doubly loss, retired to a
convent, where she was soon joined by the widow
of Bohort ; for this good king, on learning the death
of hi^ brotlier, died also of grief, leaittig two in-
fant sons, Lyonel and Bohort 5 who having been for
some time secreted by a faithilil knight, named
** Farien, from the fury of Claudas, were afterwards
carriefl off by the lady of the lake, and educated
in company with their cousin Lancelot.

The fairy, when her pupil had attained the age of
18, conveyed him to the court of Arthur, for the
ptitpose of demanding his admission to the honour
of knighthood 5 and at the first appearance of the
youtliful candidate, the graces of his person, which
were not inferior to his courage and activity, made
an instantaneous and indelible impression on the
heart of Guenever, while her charms inspired him
with an equally ardent and constant passion. The
amours of these lovers throw a very singular co-
louring over the whole history of Arthur. It is for
the sake of Guenever that the amorous Lancelot
achieves the'conquest of Northumberland 3 that he
defeats Gallehaut king of the marches, who after-
wards becomes his secret and most attached con-
fident; that he cleaves ddW numberless giants^,
and lays whole cargoes of tributary crowns at the

^ ji.

*.1

MORTE ARTHUR* 311

feet of his suzerain, finding, in his stolen inter-
views with the queen, an ample indemnification for
his various hardships and labours. But this is not
all, Arthur, deceived by the artifices of tj^false
Guenever, who was, as we have seen, tn(|t.ffle^i-
mate daughter of Leodegan, declares her the part^-
ner of his throne, and dismisses his queen to au^,^
distant province 3 where she is immediately joined
by her lover, and follows without restraint th^
natural bent of her inclinations. Yet Lancelot is
dissatisfied 5 it is necessary to the dignity of his
mistress, that she should still share the bed of
Arthur, and that, protected in her reputation by the
sword of her lover, she should lead a life of cere^^
monious ^d^plendid adultery. This point is ao-
complishj^^and their ilUercourse conUniies s^
usual. The prose romance of .Lancelot is appa-
rently composed of shreds and patches, and is too
long for abridgment -, but there is a metrical ro-
. mance respecting this hero, composed by rfUeUen
.de Troyes in the 12th century, and called "La
Charette,*' which has the air of hrn^ translated
from a Bii|On lay, and seems to possess conside-
rable merit. It is analysed in the Bibliotheque des
Romans (April 1 777) from a MS. belonging to
the Comte de Caylus 3 but such readers as have net
an opportunity of consulting that work tnay perhdpa

4«?»

■■* ^

312 MORtE ARtHUR;

be glad to find here an abridged paraphrase of this
antient and curious poem.

At a festival of the Ascension, while Arthur, sur-
rowonUf^^ his knights, was still at table, an xm^
knfown miight completely armed,, and having hiB
vizor lowered so as to conceal his features, entered
the haU, and requested a boon from the king and
queen ; which they inconsiderately granted. Then
assuming a sterner tone, he said, " Sir king, I have
in my prisons many dames and damsels pf thy
court, whom I will keep in thy despite, unless
thou find a knight hardy enough to attempt their
deliverance by justing with nie. I will wait in the
adjoining wood. Should I be unhorsed, I promise
to deliver all my prisoners ; but I r^uire that thy
queen accompany thy|»ampion, — s^jl^t, if vio*
torious, I may carry Hoih together into captivity."
Sir Kay, the seneschal, constantly eager for ad-
ventures, which as constantly brought him to dis«
.' grace; *jltomediately claimed this also^ and Arthur^
Uinded {j£>^his indignation, accepted the ofEsr,
ob8ervingl|ba|the/efow-knight did^^ot deserve a
noblemdN^rsaiy. Hie other tauntiil|!y replied,
that a short time would show whether he deserved
such a reproachful appellation j that he should ex-
pect to meet Sir Kay with no other company than
tiiat of the qae6n; but that half '4a hour would

«: MORTE ARTHUR. 313

^. decide their contest, — after which he should be
W ready to meet a new combatant. m ^

* iThe tone in which these words were pr^c^-
ced somewhat disconcerted Sir Kay, SA^f^gfoa^
Arthur, who having passed his word oBuld no
longer ' recede. Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain^
*> bmling with impatience, armed themselves, leaped
upon their horses, counted every minute as it
passed, and at the expiration of the half-hour
galloped at full speed to the field of battle, which
was not more than a thousand paces distant from
the hall. They arrived, however, too late. Sir
Kay had been unhorsed, dreadfully bruised> bound
hand and foot, and carried off together with the
iqueen 5 but as there were two roads ^hich pro*
o^ded from the place of coi&tet, it was impossible
to guess which they had followed. ^ Sir Lancelot
^and Sir Gawain therefore separated. The former,
urging his horse to its utmost speed, and hewing at
every instant to gain sight of the fugitive, met
with a deep rut, in which his courser fell«q^d brok6
bis leg. The knight, almost frantic ^feh rage,
proceeded on foot with as much speed dKifteavy
armour would pennit, and at length overtook a
cart driven by a very deformed dwarf 5 who, on
being questioned concerning the route of the fiigi*
fives, professed to have seen then^, and promised^

.«

314 MOnTE ARTHUR,

WiS^.nxa, that carts were at tliis time extremely

if the hero would mount his cart, tljat he would
soog^mt him into the proper road.

scarce!^ .I%e was thought sufficient for a moderate
town 5 because they were only used for the purpose
of carrying out filth, or of conveying criminals to
the place of execution^ Lancelot was perhaps ig-
norant of this, or perhaps indifferent about the
mode of conveyance, provided he had a chance of
overtaking his mistress : he therefore placed him-
self as coromodiously as he<:ould in this imcoutb
equipage, and only lamented that .after much
joking he made little progress. In the mean time,
the road which Gawain followed had insensibly led
him into that of Lancelot. He met the dwarf 5 to
whom, without noticing his friend, he put the
same questions, and received the same an^er:
)),ut being on hc«^eback, he, of course, declined,
the proposition 5 and, having .tlien recognised the
other knight, strongly but ineffectually represened
to him li^ indecorum of such a mode of travelling.
At nij^t-fall they arrived at a castle, the lady of
whicoiKiediately came out at tlie head of her
damsels to welcome Sir Gawain, but was with
difficulty induced to admit within her waUs his
companion, whom she supposed to be a criminal,
or at least a prisoner. At supper. Sir Lapcelot was^

MORTE AitTHUR,* 315

on the point of being consigned to tlie kitchen, and
only admitted to the lady's table at the eacQe^t so-
licitation of Sir Gawain. But no entjjeaties could
persuade the damsels ttt prepare a bed for the re-
puted felon. He seized the iirst which he found
unoccupied, and slept quietly till morning.

The windows of the castl#|' commanded an ex-
tensive view of the coiftitry : and Lancelot, having
observed at some distance on the plain a procession
accompanying a lady in a veil, in whom he recog-
nised a likeness to the fair Guenever, suddenly fell
down in a sw(X)n; an accident very usual with
amorous knights, but always productive of wonder
and curiosity in the by-standers. The lady of the
castle imputed it to shame and vexation at the re*
xrollection of the disgraceful cart 5 but Gawain, on
his friend's recovery, thought his saspicion very
probable, and became equally eager to depart.
Their fair hostess supplied Lancelot with aJiorse
and spoar j they traverse the plain at full speed ;
and learn from somi^ travellers that the Mjf whom
they had discovered was in fact the lovely Wienever ;
that she was led captive by Meleagans sui of Bra-
demagus king of Goire 3 and that there were buj:
two roads which led'^to her intended prison, botl)
of which were known to abound in the most peri-
lous adventures. Here, therefore, the friends again

316 'mori^s akthub.

Separated. Lancelot, afler encountering and over*
coming numerous obi^t^cles, was accosted on the
evening of ^e second day by a young and sportive
beauty, who gaily proposed, to him a supper in her
\-f. • castle \ giving him at the same time to understand,
that their repast would not be interrupted by the
presence of any thii^ person^ The knight^ who
was hut^ry and weary, and whose horse was ahnost
exhausted, apcepted the proposal^ though lyith no
very good grace $ sapped voraciously f demanded
a separate room \ and, without paying any attention
to some very intelligible glances, retired to rest, and
slept most obstinately till his slumbers were dis^
turbed by loud and shrill shrieks . proceeding frona
the lady's apartment. . He hastily p(at on his armour,
and/ proceeding to the place, found her struggling
in the embraces. of a knight, whom he instantly
attacked, and would have punished for his insolence
but for the interposition . of six attendants^ who
jointly assaulted our hero and rescued the Jii^visl^.
He no'Vjjjhpnied his arms agaii^these Qewe^jBemias^
cut c^ me hand of one, the head of a^Pther^ and
'pierced a third through the body; but was much
•urprised, wImo, in the midst of his career, the whole
scene vanished, and he found" that his &]r enter-
tainer was no other than his guardian &iry, who had
put him to this trial of hi&fidelity'^ihd courage, and

•MORT^ ARTHUR, 317

-who now declared hili^ worthy of her future pro-
tection. Lancelot again retl|^ to rest^ and on the
next day the fairy condescenckd to conduct him
into the direct road. After some hours^ she led
him to a foutitain^ where tliey alighted to refi'esh
their horses 5 and th^ fairy^ pointing out to Lancelot
arccxnb of ivory inkid withgold^ ^nd a ringlet of
most beautiful hair, which lay on the grass^ inform^
-ed him that they belonged to his lovely queen^ who
had stopped there on the preoedii^ day, and whose
traces he would now ^d it easy to follow. Lance-
lot, 9fter kissing the precious comb with great fer-
vency, and placing the ringldunear his heart, took
leave of the fairy 5 from whom he received, to-
.gether with assurances of' her further assistance, a
ring, which by its changes of colour had the virtue
<of discovering and rendering nugatory all enchant-
ments intended to delay his progipss.
•. The knight pursued his journey without being
much incpmmbded, ekcept by the bad jokes of
numerous traveller^ all 'di[ whom seeined to have
. learned by inspiration his disgraceful airing in the
cart. One, more insolent than the rest, had the
audacity to intemi/H him during dinner, and even
to risk a battle in support of his plea^^antry. Lance-
lot, after an easy victory, only doomed him to be
carted in his turn ^ but, learning from a fair damsel.

♦ V

318 MORTB ARTHUR.

his pccuser, that his moraliijr w^s still more exe-
crable than his wit^ pfOvoked him to a second com-
bat, and cut off his head 5 which the lady carried
a\(^ay with great marks of satisfaction.

At night, the hero was received in another castle
with great apparent hospitality, but found himself
in the morning in a dungeon and loaded with chains.
Consulting his ring, and finding that this was an
enchantment, he burst his chains, seized his ar-*
mdur in spite of the visionary monsters wha at-
tempted to defend it, broke open the gates of the
tower, and continued his journey. At length his
progress was checked by a wide and rapid torrent^
which could only be passed by walking on the edge
of a vast and sharp scimitar.* Lancelot, leading
his horse by the bridle, and causing him to swim
by his side, advanced without hesitation upon this
very inconvenient bridge, and reached the opposite
bank af^ei* cutting his feet to the bone. He next>
wounded as he was, attacked and killed a lion and '
a leopard, who opposed his landings and then, hav-
ing seated himself on the grass, was endeavouring
to stop with his handkerchief the effusion c^ blood,
which was very considerable, when he was accosted
by Brademagus, fatlier of Meleagans, whose castle
was then in sight, and at no great distance. This
king, not less courteous than his son was haugh^

•r

MOtlTE ARTHUR. 31^

^d insolent, after complimenting him on the
valour and skill with which he had achieved the
passage of the bridge, offered him his assistance y
and, on being questioned respecting Guenever, re-
plied that she was safe in his castle, from whence
she might be rescued by any knight who should
succeed in conquering Meleagans. Lancelot im-
mediately demanded tlie batlle for next day; and
(he proper preparations being made, it took place
at the foot of^tlie tower, arid under the eyes of th6
fair captive. Ihe contest would have be«^ very-,
short, had her lover retained his usual strength and
activity; but, almost fainting from the anguish of his
wounds and from continued loss of blood, he began
to stagger and give way, when Guenever exclaimed,
" Ah Lancelot, my knight ! truly have I been told
that thou art no longer :wbrthy of me." Ti'.e voice
and presence of his mistress, and this strange re-
proach which he was unconscious of having merited,
•instantly revived the drooping knight ; who, re-
suming at once his usual superiority, soon laid athw
feet his haughty adversary, and was on the point
of sacrificing him to his resentment, when Guene-
ver, moved by the earnest entreaties of Bradema-
gus, ordered him to withhold the blow. He did
so, and even pardoned a base attempt of his pro-
strate enemy to stab him at the moment of liis

S90 MORTE ARTHUtt.

generous forbearance. The castle and all its prison->
ers were now at his disposal 5 :bilt he consented^ at
the request of Brademagus, to give his promise of
meeting Meleagans at the expiration of a twelve-
month, at the court of Arthur, and of there renew-^
ing the contest for a prize which was already his own
by the right of conquest.

Lancelot flew to the apartment of the queen,
threw himself at her feet, and prepared to kiss her
hand ; when she exclaimed, " Ah Ijbcelot ! why
do I s€^ thee again without daring to think thee
worthy of me, afler thou hast been disgracefidly

drawn about the country in ". She had not

time to finish the phrase ; -for her lover suddenly
started from her, and, loudly lamenting that he had
incurred the contempt and indignation of his lady,
rushed out of the castle, threw his shield and
sword to the right and kft, ran furiously into the
fields, and disappeared; "

It seems, that the story of the abominable cart,^
which haunted Lancelot at.every step, had reached
the ears of Sir Kay, who had told it to the queen
as a proof that her knight must have been dis-
honoured. But Guenever had full leisure to repent
the haste with which she had given credit to the
tale. Meleagans, hearing no tidings of Lancelot,
determined to keep his prisoners 3 and, to prevent

MOR'tB ARTHU!l> 3^1

the escape of the queen^ ordered the windows of

her chamber^ wMch was on the ground door^ to
be oar^ully closed by- a smt of wicket composed of
strong bar!^ of iroir, iixed on stout iron hmges^ and
* locked every night. ?n her antechamber slept her
lelkyw-prisoner Sir Kay^ and beyond him a guard
of 8(^ier9.

In the n^ean time^ Sir Lancelot^ having waEi!>

dered during diree days without knowing where

be weat> began to reflect thai it mighfe have been

Wiser to disabuse his mistress than to run away

fi*om her -, Ike therefore fefeurned by night to the

tower^ and, guided by a lamp in the queen*s

chamber, r^ched the grated wicket, and called in

e low voice on Guenever. She was already iRbed>

but not asleep 5 and, starting at the voice of her

lover, rose in her $hift, which (says the poem)

was '' passing white,'* listened with silent pleasure

to his exculpation, and, putting her hand throu^

the bars, offered it to the lips of Lancelot as the

seal of her forgiveness. The knight, in a transport

of joy, seized the iron wicket, lifted it off the

hii^&, and, spiinging into the chamber, continued

with the queen till day-break 5 when l)e escape^

undiscovered, having carefully re^^aced the wicket

an its former position. It happened, however, that,

having scratched his leg in escaping put of th^. win*

VOL. I. Y

3iS8 MORTB AaTHUR»

'dow, some blood flo^yed. into the room ; beside^
which> one of his gloves^ which he had dropped
in his hurry, remained as evidence of some noc-^
tumal visit to the fair prisoner's chamber.

• On the following day, Meleagatis, coining to*
visrit Guenever, observed this glove and the traces
of blood; from which, as the wickejt was ap-»
parently untouched, and as it was impossible that
any one could have twice passed unobservied through

a room fiill of guards, he naturally suspected Sir
Kay of being the queen*s paramour, and insisted
on proving the truth of his suspicion by. an appeal
to arms. It was In vain that the disastrous seneschal
produced his two gloves, and protested that he
had ^either a third hand which had been deprived
of its covering, nor any wound on his person from
wh^ce ;the blood could have proceeded : the com-*
bat was proclaimed ; and he was forced to prepare
for the loss of a second battle, as be had no reason
|o hope for. the appearance of any other champion;

• Another chanipion however did appear, and the
heart of Meleagans immediately told him that thb
was no other than the formidable Lancelot. His
guardian fairy had restored to him his h(»^e and
^ms ; his recent wounds were perfectly healed ;
and llie perjured Meleagans, covered with bruises,
was.ag^.cojnpelled, .in the sight of his father and

MORTB ARTHUJli 323

c^ his subjects^ to implore the mercy of his con-
queror, who, at parting, had the generosity to
renew the promise of meeting him at Arthur's
court after the expiration of a twelvemonth. Lance-
lot now departed with the queen, the seneschal,
and the. other prisoners j and, taking the road by
which they expected the arrival of Grawain, had
the satisfaction of meeting him on the second day ;
after which, the whole company proceeded gaily
towards Cardigan. But the malicious ingenuity
of Meleagans was not yet exhausted. A vile little
dwarf, who was stationed at the side of the road,
contrived, by tearing his ugly. hair and. shedding
torrents of tears, to interest the generous Lancelot
in favour of a supposed lady> who was represented
^s exposed to every sort of indignity in a neighboiSr.-
ing castle. The incautious knight, after assuring
his companions that this adventure could not last
long, and that he would speedily, rejoin tliem, con-
sented to follow the ti:eachefous dwarf, fell into
an ambush wluch was prepared for him, aiid was
plunged into a dungeon. Gawain and the queen,
after waiting for him in vain during a day and a
night, were obliged to resume their journey, and

arrived witliout him at Cardigan*. ■' *

• • •

• Here ends the composition of Chrestien de Trbyes-

the remainder is by Geoffrey de Ligny.

324 MORTS AlttH&ft;

After an imprisonment of six month^^ durlit^
Ivhich Arthur iti vain slttempted to g^m ^y infor'>
mation concerning him> he appeared for a' moment^
and again as suddenly v^isfaed, without revediflg
to any one the place of his h^itation. The foUoW'^
ing are the circumstances of this event i— -

The damsels of Arthur's court obtained his per-
mission^ and that of Gueneter^ to proclaim d
solemn tournament^ the conditions of trhrck wefe,
that the victor knight ^ould have a right to select
the most beautiful of them as his wife *, and that
her dower should be formed * from the Sale of the
horses and arms of the vanquished. The singu*
larity of the proposal attracted crowds of com-
batants, who, dividing themselves into troops,
contested the prize yith various success, till an
unknown knight^ suddenly entering the lists, at-
tacked the rival parties in turns, and, forcing them
one upon another, drove the whole before him to
the extremity of the lii|ts# Guenever, suspecting
from the imparallded address of the stranger that
he could be no other than Lancelot, seiit to him
one of her damsels, with this message: '^ Sir
knight, the queen orders that at the instant thou
shalt suffer thyself to be conquered." In a mo-
meiQit he appeared awkward and irresolute ; lost
ground ; retreated^ amidst the shouts and laughter

MORTE ARTHUR. 3%^

<)£ the spectators, to the further end of the lUts j
pnd was preparing* to quit them altogether, when a
^iejQond message ordered him to reassume his former
superiority. He obeyed 5 and, turning on his pursuers
with the rapidity of lightning, overthrew them all
in succession, collected their horses into a body,
drew them up before the queen's balcony j and,
having desired that she would x:ause them to be
^Id, ^and distribute the purchase money among
tier damsels, made a low bow, and returned at fuU
«peed to his prison, leaving Guenever in the utmost
^tonishment at his sudden apparition.

It seems that the seneschal who had the custody
pf Lancelot, being ;ob]iged to leave the castle
/during som^ days, intrusted the prisoner to the care
pf his wife 5 and the wife, thinking it a great pity
to detain such a handsome knight in a dungeon>
gave him his liberty for a week, and even supplied
him with her husband's horse and armour, on his
{)romise to return, at the expiration of the term,
jto his confkiement Ihe seneschal returning a
jittle too soon was much alarmed ajt his wife's in-
discretion^ and hastened to impart his fears to Me**
leagans, who, however, laughed at his appre*
hensions ^ assuring him that the promise of Lance-
jiot was sacred ^ but at the ^ame time advised him
to treat his prisoner in future with Uicreased s^veritj*

326 MORTE ARTHUR*.

The barbarous order was obeyed; the knight]
chained to the ground and imperfectly fed on bread
and water^ daily lost his health and vigour 5 the
year was nearly expired -, and all the efforts of Gue-
never to obtain any news of her champion having
proved fruitless^ the triumph of Meleagans ap-
peared to be secure.

. But at this critical moment a young and beauti*
fill lady^ surrounded by g«i|ards, and follow^ by a
splendid retinue, arrived at the fatal castle. The
seneschal recognised in her features the charming
daughter of Brademagus, and sister of his master
Meleagans -, listened with respectful credulity to a
long story respecting the motives of her journey j
and submissively executed the various orders which
she issued with an air of conscious authority. She
slept in the castle ; and next morning, complaining
that her rest had been disturbed by the groans of a
prisoner, directed that he should be instantly re-
leased 3 received him with the most marked di«
stinction -, administered to hun suclt restoratives
as immediately renewed his health and strength 5,
armed him with her own hands 5 supplied him
with an excellent war-hprse^ and^ to the utter
astonishment of the seneschal, carried him off to
the court of Arthur. At the moment of entering
thedty of Cardigan^ ^he made herself known to

MORTE ARTHUR. '327

Lancelot as the lady of the lake, his guardian fairy,
and, honouring him with a kiss on the forehead,
vanished from his sight

Meleagans, true to his appointment, was already
in the lists, braving all the round table, and loudly
calling on Lancelot, whose appearance to meet the
challenge he naturally considered as impossible.
Again and again he repeated his defiance 5 but at
last ^well-known voice answered, *' Behold me !
let us begin the combat." Though appalled by the
consciousness of his crimes, and by the recollection
of his rival's superiority, the felon summoned all
his resolution, and, being animated by despair, de-
fended his life with great skill and obstinacy : but
his utmost efforts could only delay the triumph
of Sir Lancelot, who, after piercing him to the
heart, received the crown of victory from the hands
of his royal mistress.

Thus ends the romance of La Charette, the
joint work of Chrestien de Troyes and of Greoffroy
de Ligny ; to the former of whom we owe the story
of Le Chevalier au Lion, the original of a most
beautiful old English poem called Ywain arid
Gawain, translated, (as I suspect) by Clerk of
Tranent, and published by the late Mr. Ritson.
We now proceed to the romance of Morte Arthur,
which, as we have already observed, is translated
Irom a Frendi prose romance of the same name

8SS MO^RT^ 'ARTifUiUt

formmg, in the pri&ted copies of the romance of
]jancelot du Lac^ the fifth and last p^rt of that st(xy«
It also exists in MS. in Mr. Douce's libraiy, aad
at the Museum. iBibl. Keg, 14 £. ill. — IQi^. idii.
*-^aad 20 C, vi.

The knights of -the round table had completed
the quest of the San^real, aipd bad firmly esta*
blifihed the empire of Arthur^ by thede^t of all
Ina enemies. Four years of peace and tranquillity
had been endured by these august ;personages with
tolerable patience : but at length th^ became
tired of living on the recollection of old adventures^
pnd anxious to achieve new ones j and Arthur joy-
fully adopted the advice of Guenever, to pr9daim
^ solemn tournament at Winchester, under tlie di*
rection of Sir Galehaut.

. -The <king, not less impatient than h^sJcnights
for this festival, set off some days befoire 4o sqper-
inte^d the preparations^ leaving the queen with lier
xjourt at<^amalot. Sir Lancelot, Ainder pietext of
indisposition, remained behind also 5 and Sir Agra-
•AT^in staid to watch the conduct of the lovers.
They^ however> at this time disappointed his
malice. Lancelot meant no more than to attend
the tournament in disguise ) and, having conimunir
cated his project to his tnistre^s, mounted his i^orse^

MORTB ARTHUR% i3^

set off wttbotit any attendiant, and^ counterfeiting
the feebleness of age, took the most unfrequented
j%)ad to Winchester, and passed unnoticed, as an
lold knight "wtho was going to^be a spectator of the
f ports. Even Arthur and Ywaln, who h^if)ened
to behold him from the windows of a oastle tinder
which he passed, were the dupes of his difiguise.
£ut an accident betr^ryred hiiti. His horse happen-
^ to stumble 5 and the hero, forgetting for a mo«-
ment his assumed character, recovered the animal
.with a strength and agility so peculiar to hiraseik^
4hat they instantly recognised the inimitable Lance*
lot. They, however, suffered him to proceed on
his journey without interruption, convinced that
his extraordinaty feats of arms must discover him
at the approaching festival.

In the evening, Tjancelot was magnificently en-
tertained, as a stranger knight, at the neighbouring
Castle of Ascalot. The lord of this castle had a
daughter of exquisite beauty^ and>two scuis, late-
ly received into the order of knighthoofl, one of
whom was at that time sick in bed, and thereby
prevented from attending the tournament, for
which the two J^rothers had long made the necessary
preparations. Lancelot offered to attend the other,
if he were permitted to bOTfow the armour of the
invalid; and the lord of Ascalot, without knowing
3

330 MORTE ARTHUR.

the name of his guest, being satisfied firom his ap^
peai:ance that his- son could not, have a better as-
sistant in arms, most thankfully accepted the offer.
In the mean time, the young lady, who had been
much struck by the first appearance of the stranger
knight, continued to survey him with increased at-
tention, and, before the conclusion of supper, i)e^
came so deeply Clamoured of him, that, after fre-
quent changes of colour, and other, symptoms
whidi the experienced Sir Lancelot could not pos-
sibly mistake, she was obliged to retire to her cham-
ber, where she threw herself on her bed, and lay
drowned ip' tears.

Lancelot wist what was her will ;

Well he knew by pther mo :
Her brother cleped he him tiU,

And to her chamber gonne they go.

He set him down, for the maiden^s sake>
Upon her bed, there she lay 5

Courteously to her he spake.
For to comfort that fair may.

In her arms she gan him take.
And these wordea gan she say r
♦' Sir, bot gif that ye it make, *

*' Save my life no leech may !**

MORTE ARTHUR. 331

€C

Lady,'* he said, *' thou must let j ■

*' For me, (ne give thee nothing ill!)
*' In another stede mine heart is set 5

*' It is not at mine owne will.
*' In earth is nothing that shall me let

" To be thy knight, hud and still * ;
*' Another time we may be met, '

*' When thou may better speak thy filL"

*' Sith I of thee ne may have more,
*' As thou art hardy knight and free,

*' In the tournament that thou would bear
*' Some sign of mine that men might see !*'

*' Lady, thy sleeve thou shalt off sheer,
"I wol it take for the love of thee j

'' So did I never no lady's ere,

'' But one, that ipost hath loved me."

This negotiation being thus adjusted, Lancelot
set off in the morning with the young knight; who,
on his objecting to lodgings in the city of Winches-
ter, where he probably would have been easily re^
cognised, conducted him to the castle of a lady,
sister to the lord of Ascalot, by whom they were
magnificently entertained. The next day, after

* That is, ** in the noise of battle, and in the silence of pcaceJ"
It seems to be a foolish but very common phrase, generally
used as a mere expletive for the convenience of the rhyme.

03$ .IfORTC ARTHUR.

the usual repast, they put on their armour, t^hich
was perfectly .plaia, , and without any xkvice, as
was usual to youths during the first year of i^nlght-
hood, their shields being only painted red, as some
colour was necessary to enable them to be recog-
nised by their attendants. LanceOot wore on his
crest the sleev,e of the maid of Ascalot, and thus
equipped proceeded to the tournament, where the
knights were divided into two companies^ the one
commanded by Sir Galehaut, the other by king
Arthur. Having surveyed the combat for a §hort
time from witliout tlie lists, and observed that Sir
Galehaufs party began to give way, they joined
the press, and attacked the royal knights, the
young man choosing supji adversaries ^s were suited
to his strength -, whilst his companion selected the
principal champions of the round table, and sue-
pessively overthuew Ywain, Bobort, and Lyqnel.
The astonishraenjt of tlie spectators was,e^treme/-<T
for.it was thougl^t that no .one but .Lancelot could
possess such invincible force, — ^and at tjie same time
the favour on Jiis ci:est seemed to preclude the
possibjility of his being thus di^uised. At length>
.Sir Hector, Lancelot's brother, rode to a^t^k the
wonderful stranger, and, after a dreadful combat,
wounded him dangerously in tlie head.) but \^rz^
Jiimself completely stunned by a blow on the hel-

KfOKTE AfiLTHUS; dSS

fiiet^ aiid felled to the ground^ togetber with his
horse : after which, the conqueror rode off at full
speed, attended by, his conipanion.

Having reached the forest^ he pulled up his vizor
to remove 0ie blood, which nearly filled his eyes $
and, finding himself in great pain, readily consented
to follow the young knight to the castle of the noble
lady witli whom they had lodged on the preceding
day. A skilful leech was sumnooned, who, having
examined the wound, declared that long rest and
great attention were necessary to his recovery. In
the mean time Arthur was so anxious to know the
name of the victor, tliat he proclaimed a second
tournament, to he holden at the expiration c^ a
month, in hopes of attracting him to Winchester,
and thereby making the discovery j and, in fact.
Sir Lancelot, on hearing the news, determined,
weak as he was, to re-enter the lists : but at his first
effort to rise from his bed his wound opened ; he
swooned from loss of blood } and his leech having
threatened him with certain death if he should re-
peat the attempt, he was condemned to lie still ;
whilst Arthur, who could obtain no news of the
unknown knight, returned unsatisfied to Camalot.
No sooner was Lancelot able to mount his horse
ihan his young friend caused him to be copveyed to

■»

S34 MORTB ARTHUR.

Ihe castle of Ascalot^ where he was attended vtrith
the greatest care by the good earl, by his two sons,
and above all by. his fair daughter, whose medical
skill probably much hastened the period of his con-
valescence. His health was altnost completely re*
stored, when Sir Hector, Sir Bohort, and Sir
Lyonel, who, inmiediatcly after the return of the
court to Camalot, had undertaken the quest of their
relation, unexpectedly discovered him walking od
the walls of the castle. Their meeting was very
jcyfuj 3 for, though Arthur's knights frequently took
a pleasure in secreting themselves from their friends,
they were always marvellously delighted at being
found by them. They passed three days in the
f»stle amidst constant festivities, and bantered
each other on the events of the preceding touma-
pientj Lancelot, though he began by vowing
vengeance against the author of his wound, having
^ded by declaring it extremely pleasant to be so
forcibly convinced of his brother's, extraordinarjr
prowess. He then dismissed them with a message
to the queen, promising to follow immediately, it
l)eing necessary that he should take a formal leave
of his kind hosts, as well as :of .the fair maid of
Ascalot. The young lady, after vainly attempting
.t:o detain him by her tear$ and. solicitations, said^ .

MORTE ARTHUR* 33^

•^^"Sir, gif that your wille it were, '

*' Sith I of thee ne may have mair,

*' Some tiling ye woldp be-leave me here,
'* To look oh, when me longeth sare !**

Lancelot spake with herte fitee.
For to comfort that lady hend,
*' Mine irmure shall I leave with thee.
And in thy brother's will I wend.
Look then, ne long not after me,
■ ^' For here I may no longer tend*^
*' Long time ne shall it nought be

*' Tliat 1 ne shall either come or send<<^

In the mean time, the three knights had delivered
their niessage to Guenever, who was in paroxysms
of joy at the expected retm*n of her lover f and had
then proceeded to announce to the king, who was
hunting with Gawain, the news of their having dis-^
covered Sir Lancelot. Gawain, impatient to. see
him, immediately took leave of the king, and
rode with all speed to Ascalot: but the knight was
already gone. He was, however, sumptuously co*
tertained, and, in answer to hb questions, : wa$
distinctly informed by the earPs daughter, that she
bad bestowed her heart upon his friend, and that
she had good reason to flatter herself with being

*• - • tarry. Sibbald's Gloss. Itirtdt ieynd, lane.

iM llORtB ABTHt7]l.

the lady of bis aifectfoos ; as a pledge of which/
he had left wkh her his well-known suit of af inour<
Grawain^ though at first incredulous^ could not re-*
sist this af^arently decishre testimony 3 and, after
requesting the maiden that he also migbt^ for
Lancelot's sake^ have the honour of being admitted
amongst her knights^ took his leave^ and returned
to court.

Several days passed away, during which, the
absent knight was most anxiously expected : yet he
did not appear } and his return was so long pro-
tracted, that Artliur began to express the utmost
fear for his safety, — insisting that, if his wounds had
not opened afresh, it was impossible that he should
so long delay the execution of his promise. 6»«
wain replied by expatiating on the charms of the
fnaid of Ascalot; related the story which had
been confided to him ; and observed^ that such an
adventure would be a legitimate excuse for a much
longer absence. This conversation, which took
|dace in the-presence of Guenever, sunk deep into
her heart ; she retired to her chamber j ^ abandoiied
herself to the most violent transports of jealousy j and,
vecluded from all but her confidential attendants, left
king Arthur and his courtiers to amuse themselves
without her 5 wl>ich th^ were so Httle able to do,
that the court became the abodo of fixed duloess and

MORTE ARTHUR^ S37

melancholy. Lancelot was, during all this time^
Very unnecessarily leading a life of solitude at a
hermitage in the forest 5 where being accidentally
found at last by Hector and Lyonel> he heard all the
strange conjectures to .which his absence had given
rise^ as well as the despair of his disconsolate
mistress> and was easily induced to gratify all parties
by his return.

The joy produced by his appearance was ex-*
cessive. Arthur, who was sitting with Gawain in.
a watch-tower, discovered him at a distance on the
piain$ ran out c^ the gates to meet him^ at the
head of all his knights ; kissed and embraced him ;
and assisted with his own hands in preparing for
him a bed of honour covered with cloth of goJd»
All flocked round him, anxious to render him any
service; plied him with questions; listened to his
adventures $ almost stifled him with embraces ;
and waited on him with such assiduity^ that' he
could not, during the first tliree days, find a single
opportunity of seeing his mistress without a crowd
of witnesses. But the important occupation of
hunting could not be long neglected ; and Arthur
having repaired to the forest to play, Lancelot, by
staying at home with Hector and Lyonel, found at
last a pretext for paying his court to the queen.
Guenever, feeling quite convinced of his infidelity,

VOL. I. z

338 MORTE ARTHUR.

thought herlselffully justified in reproaching Bim
with his passion for the maid of Ascalot ; which,
she observed, however justified by that lady's su-
perior charms, unfortunately tended to lessen his
reputation, by givmg him a disgust for those nobler
pursuits in which his eminence over all the knights
of the world was hitherto so well established. She,
however, trusted to his honour, and hoped that hi»
new passion would never induce him to betray the
intimacy in which he had lived with one who,
however inferior to her rival in beauty, had at
least proved the sincerity and constancy of her
• affection. This address was certainly intended to
extort a justification, which she ardently wished
to hear ^ but it produced a contrary efiect.

'' Madam," he said, '' for cross and rood,
" What betokeneth all this moan ?

'^ By him that bought me witli his blood,
^' Of these tidings know I none !

*' But, by these wordis, thinketh me
'^ Away ye wolde tliat I were f
Now have good day; my lady free.

For, sooth, thou seest me never mair T'

*€

With these words he rushed out of the <jaeen>
apmlinent I huiTied to bis own > put on a tuit of

MORtli ARTHUR. 339

armour J mounted his horse 5 and, galloping off at
full speed, arrived in a few minutes within the
forest 3 whilst his friends, who heard a little too
late the intelligence of his quarrel with the queen,
were unable to prevent his hasty departure, and,
after an ineffectual pursuit, in which they tired their
horses and themselves, returned full of indignation
against the unfortunate Guenever. Even Arthur
himself, who, when he came from hunting, was
much disappointed and grieved at this second loss
of his bravest knight, would have been much
disposed to join in their resentment, but that he
found his wife in a stale of grief and despondency,
which proved that she was already too severely
punished by the loss of Lancelot, for any indiscreet
language of which she might have been guilty.

But her misfortunes were not yet terminated. A
certain squire who was in her inunediate service,
having some cause of dislike to Gawain, deter-
mined to destroy him by poison at a public enter-
tainment. For this purpose he conveyed the poison
Into an apple of remarkable size, which he placed
on the top of several others, and put the dish be-
fore the queen, hoping that, as Gawain was the
knight whom she esteemed next to Sir Lancelot,
she would make him the fatal present. But it
happened otlierwise. A Scotish knight of high

346 MOtlTE ARTHtJft.

distinction, happening to arrive on that day, vrsH
seated on one side of tlie queen ^ and to him, as a
stranger, she presented the apple 5 which he had no
sooner tasted than he instantly expired. The whole
court was, of course, thrown into confusion : the
i(hights rose from table, darting looks of indigna-
tion at the wretclied Guenever, whose tears and
exclamations were unable to exculpate her from a
trime apparently so notorious : treacle and othei*
antidotes were applied in vain; and nothing re-
mained but to order a magnificent funeral fot the
murdered stranger.

Knightis done none other might.

But buried him, with doel * enougfii
At a chapel, with riche light.

In a forest by a swough f.
A riche tomb they did be-dight 5

A crafty clerk the letters drough J,
How '' there lay the Scotish knight
** That queen Ganore with poison slough^,''
After this a time befell.

To tlie court there com a knight,

* grief: deuil, Fr.

f I cannot explain this word, as it usually means a noise

or cianiour.

\ drew* § slew.

MORTB ARTHUR. 341

His brother he was, as I you tell.
And Sir Mador for sooth he hight.

He was a handy man, and snell.
In tournament, and eke in fight.

Sir Mador was, at the time of his arrival, per-
fectly ignorant of his brother's death : but having
accidentally seen the chapel while hunting in the
forest, he entered it to say his prayers 5 and, being
attracted by the magnificence of a newly-erected
tomb,' perused the fatal inscription, and hastily
returned to court,' determined on immediate and
signal vengeance. He rode into the hall -, loudly
accused the queen of treason 3 and insisted on her
being given up to punishment, unless she should
find, within an appointed time, a knight hardy
enough to risk his life in support of her innocence.
Ai'thur, powerfiil as he was, did not dare to deny
the appeal, but was compelled, with a heavy heart,
to ratify the conditions ; and Mador sternly took
his departure, leaving the royal couple plunged in
no small terror and anxiety.

During all this time Sir Lancelot had taken up
hb abode with a hermit in the forest, and had be-
gun to find his companion, however edifying, much
less amusing than the beautifiil mistress with whom
be ha4 so perversely qu^rrelled^ whep the news of

34< MORTE ARTHUR.

Sir Mador*s challenge fortunately reached his ears.
He had hitherto lamented, to very little purpose,
the violence of his own temper, and the jealousy
of Guenever, and had considered, as ardent lovers
usually do, that a reconciliation was the most im-
possil^e thing in the world. But this intelligence
revived his spirits, and he began to prepare with
the utmost clieerfulness for a contest, which, if
its issue should be successful, would insure him at
once the affection of his mistress and the gratitude
of his sovereign.

The suddenness of Sir Mador*fi accusation, as
we have seen, had left to Arthur v«ry little time
for reflection ; but on the following day he took Sir
Gawain with him into a private apartment for the
purpose of discussing all the circumstancfes of this
strange and calamitous adventure. During their
consultation, the habit of curiosity inherent in all
knights frequently drew them to the window of
their tower, the walls of i^hich were washed by a
river 3 and on this river they descried, with great
surprise, a boat richly ornamented, and covered
with an awning of cloth of gold, which appeared
to be floating down the stream without any human
guidance. The subject of their consultation was,
for a while, forgotten in their anxiety to examine
this wonderful boat, which fortunately drove to

MORTE ARTHUR. 343

«hore at the same instant. They descended^
and entered it. Beneath the awning was a bed
decked with princely magnificence ; and on lifting
up the clothes^ they discovered the dead body of a
beautiful woman> in whose features Gawain easily
recognised the lovely maid of Ascalot. Pursuing
their search^ they discovered a purse richly em-
broidered with gold and jewels^ and within the
purse a letter 5 which Arthur opened, and found
addressed to himself and to all the knights of the
round table, stating that Lancelot du Lac, the mo^t
accomplished of knights, and most beautiful of
men, but at the same time the most bocH-ish
and inflexible, had by his rigour produced the
death -of the wretched maiden, whose love was no
less invincible than his cruelty. The king im*
mediately gave orders for the interment of the lady
with all the honours suited to her rank) at the same
time ejqplaining to the knights, whom he con<*
vened for the purpose of attending her funeral,
the history of her affection for Lancelot, which
rendered her a subject of conmion interest to them
all. Grawain at the same time repaired to the
queen, to apologize for having inadvertendy con-
veyed to her a false impression of Lancelot's
fidelity;

a44 MORTC ARTHUR.

** Of Ascalot that maiden free '*

^ "I said you she was his lemdn * y
. *' That I so gabbed^ it reweth me,

'^ For all the sooth now tell I can.
" He n*olde J her nought, we mow well see ^

^' Forthy^, dead is that white as swan ;
'* This letter thereof warrant wol be :
r '^ She plaineth on Lancelot to. each man.**

Guenever became furious at this intelligence ^
she felt that all her present misfortunes wete owing
to her foolish quarrel with her lover, — a quarrel
occasioned solely by the sarcastic remarks of Sir
Gawain; whom therefore, without listening to hi&
excuses, she drove contumelioiisly from her pre-
sence||.

But as the day apjKiinted by Sir Mador was fast
approaching, it became necessary that she should
endeavour to procure a tihampion for her defence }
and conducted by Arthur she successively adjured

• mhtress. f gaher, Fr. to talk lightly.

^ ne would, would not. § therefore,
g A leaf of the MS. is here torn out ; but no part of the
story appears to be missing ; the 136 lines which are wanting
^ying been probably employed partly in Gueneyer*s ejacu*
lations, and partly in the author*s description of the danger
to which she was now exposed.

MORTE ARTHUJR. 345

Sir Hector, Sir Lyonel, Sir Bohort, and even Sir
Gawain, to undertake the battle. She fell on her
knees before them 5 called heaven to witness her
innocence of the crime alleged against her; but
was sternly answered by all^ that they could not
undertake the battle, after having seen with their
own eye? the sudden death of the knight whom she
had manifestly poisoned; and that she, whose
violence and injustice had driven from court the in-.
<:omparable Sir Lancelot, did not deserve a de-
fender. She retired, therefore, dejected and dis-
consolate ; but the sight of the fatal pile, on which
if found guilty she was doomed to be burned, ex-
-citing her to a fresh eflfort, she ^ain repaired tb
Sir Bohort, threw herself at his feet, and, pite-
ously crying on him for mercy, fell into a swoon.
The brave knight was not proof against this appeal
to his feelings -, he raised her up, and hastily pro^^
mised that he would undertake her cause, if no
oth^r or better champion should present himself.
He then summoned his friends, and communicated
to tliem his resolution -, and as a mortal combat
with Sir Mador was a most fearful enterprise, they
agreed to accompany him in the morning to the
hermitage in the forest, where he proposed to re-
ceive absolution from the hermit, and to make his
peace with heaven before he entered the lists.

S46 lifORTE ARTHUR.

As they came by the forest side

Their orisouns for to make.
The noblest knight then saw they ride

That ever was in earthly shape.
His hreine* lemed all with pride 5

Steed and armure all was Uake ;
His name is nought to helef and hide.

He hight Sir Launcelot du Lake.

Oveijoyed at this meeting, they fell on their
knees and returned thanks to Providences afler
which, having, in answer to Lancdot*s questions,
confirmed the news of the queen's imminent
danger, they received his instructions to return to
court, to comfort her as well as they could, — ^but to
conceal his intention of undertaking her defence,
which he meant to do in the character of an un-
known adventurer.

On their return to the castle, they found that
mass was finished, and had scarcely time to speak
to the queen before they were summoned into the
hall to dinner. A general gloom was spread over
the countenances of all the guests ^ Arthur him-

* reins, (Diet, du vieux Langage) perhaps the whole
caparison of the horse.

f conceal. Sax.

MORTE ARTHUR. 347

self was unable to conceal his dejection ^ and the
wretched Guenever^ naotionless and bathed in
tears^ sat in trembling expectation of Sir Mador*s
appearance. Nor was it "'long ere he stalked intp
the hall, and, with a voice of thunder, rendered
more impressive by the general silence, demanded
instant justice on his victim 5 threatening that, if
it were delayed, he would himself tear her from
tliem and sacrifice her before their eyes. Arthur
meekly answered, that little of the day was yet
spent 5 that dinner was riot over 5 and, that per-
haps a champion might yet be found capable of
satisfying his impatience for battle. Sir Bohort
now rose from table, after casting a significant look
on Sir Lyonel, and shortly returning in complete
armour, resumed hi9 place, after receiving the
embraces and thanks of Arthur, who now began
to resume some degree of confidence. But Sir
Mador, growing every moment more impatient,
again repeated his denunciations of vengeance, and
insisted that tlie combat should instantly take place.

Then, as Sir Mador loudest spake.
The queen of treason to ly-calle *,

Cometh Sir Launcelot du Lake,
Bidand right into the hall.

♦ accuse.

S48 MORTE ARTHVR.

His steed and armure all was blake^
His visere over his eyen felle j

Many a man began to quake ;

A-dread of him nigh were they all.

Then spake the king, mickle of might.
That hende was in eche a sit he *,

Sir, is it your will to *light.

Eat and drink and make you blithe ?'*

Launcelot spake as a strange knight,

" Nay, sir !'* he said, " as siaythe-f,
'^ I herde tell here of a fight 3

*' I come to save a lady's life,

•^' Evil hath the queen by-set her deeds,

'* That she hath worshiped many a knight,
'* And she hath no man, in her needs,
" That for her life dare take a fight !
Thou, that her of treason gredes J,
Hastily that thou be dight !
'* Out of thy wits though tliat thou yede.
To day shalt thou prove all thy might !"

Sir Mador, though somewhat surprised, was
not appalled by the stem challenge and still more
formidable appearance of bis mighty antagonist,

* at all times. . f as soon ; i. e. immediately.
\ accusest ; — ^to ^tede is, literally, to ay.

MORTE AlftTHUtt; 549

but instantly and cheerfully prepared for the en-^
counter. At the first shock, both, were unhorsed^
They then drew their swords, and commenced a
combat which lasted from noon till evening; when
Sir Mador, whose strength began to. fail, was at
length felled to the ground by Sir Lancelot, and
compelled to sue for mercy. The victor, whose
arm was again raised to terminate the life of his
opponent, instantly dropped his sword, courteously
lifted up the fainting Sir Mador, and even con-»
descended so far as to reveal his name, frankly
confessing that he had never yet found an equally
formidable enemy. The other, with similar cour-
tesy, solemnly renounced all further projects of .
vengeance for his brother's death; and the two
knights, now become fast friends, embraced each
other with the greatest cordiality. In the mean
time Arthur, having recognised Sir Lancelot, whose
helmet was now unlaced, rushed down into the
lists, followed by all his knights, .to welcome and
thank his deliverer 5 Guenever swooned with joy ;
and the place of combat suddenly- exhibited a scene .
of the most tumultuous delight. The general sa-
tisfaction was still further increased by the discovery
of the real culprit, whose attempt to poison Sir
Gawain had been productive of such extensive
misery. Having accidentally incurred some sus-

S50 MQRT^ AUTHUn.

picion^ he confessed his crime^ and was publicly
punished in the presence of Sir Mador 5 who, see-
ing the queen so fully justified^ became anxious to
tnake her amends, by every service and attention
in his power, for the injustice of his former accusa^s*
tion. The court now returned to the castle, which^
with the title of '* la joyeuse garde** bestowed on
it perhaps in consequence of the festivities cele-
brated in honour of the queen*s exculpation, was
conferred on Sir Lancelot by Arthur, as a memorial
of his gratitude.

The happiness and security of Guenever, and of
hei paramour, now appeared to be permanently
Established; but a plot was already laid, which was
destined to destroy them, together with the king
^d kingdom. Though Gawain was warmly at-
tached to Sir Lancelot^ his brother Agravain had
been, from the first, the envious and implacable
enemy of that knight 5 and, having united himself
with Modred the king's nephew, who headed a
considerable party at court, determined on pre-
ferring against the lovers an open accusation of
treason. It was in vain that Gawain exerted all
his eloquence to oppose a measure of which he
foretold all the fatal consequences, and implored
his brother to desist, on the ground of the long
and sincere friendship which had subsisted between

.MORTE ARTH01l« 65i

him and Lancelot. Agravain was inflexible j and
Arthur having entered the hall and demanded th«
cause of this violent altercation^ Sir Gawaiu re-
tired with his brothers Qaheriet and GuehereSj
that he might not become an accomplice in tlie
action which he so strongly disapproved.

Arthur, who had hitherto been free from sus-
picion, was equally astonished and distressed at
hearing that the champion of his throne was his
worst enemy, and at reading in the eyes of the
whole assembly the truth and notoriety of the ac-
cusation. But however strongly he felt the wish,
he was unable to devise the means of vengeance,
which were thus suggested by Sir Agravain :

'^ Sir, ye, and all the court lydene *,

'' Wendeth tomorrow an hunting right ^
'' And sithen, send word to the queen,

'^ That ye wrll dwell without all night.
*' And I, and otlier twelve knights keen,

'' Full privily we shall us dight ;
" We shall him have, withoiUen ween f ,

'* Tomorrow, or any day be light."

This treacherous project was immediately carried
into execution. Guenever, perfectly off her guard,
sent the usual summons to Sir Lancelot > and the

* together, f certainly ; i. e. without at supposition.

852 KfORtfe ARTttUHi

knight^ though warned by Sir Bohort aiid othei?
friends to beware of Agravain, could not refrain
from accepting ^o pleasing an invitation ; nor could
he be persuaded to carry, to such a meeting, the
apparently useless inaimbrancc of a shield and
coat of mail. He, however, took his sword>
which he concealed under his night-gown, . and
afrived, apparently undiscoveted, at tha queen*s
apartment : but scarcely was he locked in the
embraces of his mistress, when he heard at the
doot the voices of Sir Agravain and Sir Modred ;.
who loudly accusing him of treasdn, tauntingly
added, that the means of escape were now effec-
tually prevented. Guenever was half dead with
apprehension 3 but Lancelot> finding his situation
so desperate, started from the bed, enveloped
his left arm in his gown, seized his sword in his
right, suddenly set open the door ; and, when one
only of his adversaries had rushed in, as suddenly
closed it. The armed knight advanced against him
as to an easy victory, but at the first blow fell life-
less at his feet.

The knight that Launcelot has slain.
His armure found he fair and bright j

Hastily he hath them off drayne*.
And therein himselfe dight.

• drawn.

MORTB ARTHUR. 353

** Now know thou well. Sir Agp:awayne>
'^ Thou prisons me no more to night !*'
Out then sprang he with mickle main.
Himself ayenst them all to fight.

The battle was now quickly decided. The
treacherous Agravain was the first victim 5 his ten
companions soon fell around him 5 and Sir Modred,
escaping in time, ran off to the king with the
news of the ill success which had attended their
stratagem. Lancelot hastened to Sir Bohort, re-
lated his adventure, spent the remainder of the
night in assembling and arming all his firiends \ and
at day-break put himself at their head, and marched
into the forest, after leaving a certain number of
spies to bring him intelligence of the measures
which should be adopted during his absence.

Though Lancelot had thus escaped, the queen
still remained in the king's power ; and as her
guilt was notorious, his council unanimously
doome4 her to the flames.

The fire then made they in the felde ;
Therto they brought that lady free ;
All that ever might weapon welde,
^ About her armed for to be.
VOL. I. 2 a

354 MORTE ARTHUB.

Gawain^ that stiff was under shelde^
(raheriet ne Gueberes ne would not see ;

In their chamber they them held;
Of her they hadde grete pite.

The king Arthur^ that ilke tide,

Gawain and Gueheres for-sent ;
Their answers were, nought for to hide,
*' They n* olde^be of his assent 5
'* Gawain would never be beside,
'* There any woman should be brent."
Gaheriet and Gueheres, with little pride.

All unarmed thither th^ went.

Lancelot, as might have been expected, having
received timely intelligence of this event, deter-
mined to rescue his mistress > attacked the escort;
carried her oiF^ and put all his enemies to the
sword. Unfortunately, Gawain's brothers, who
had disdained to bear arms (»i such an occasion,
and were consequently quite defencelesa> were in-
volved in the indiscriminate massacre.

At the news of this slaughter, the mind of
Arthur was equally agitated by the opposite senti-
ments of fuiy and consternation; while the tm-
fortunate Gawain, who had hitherto been guided

fHOMIt AUt^Vli. 355

6nly by his c(:ilh4>as9ion for the que^en atad fHetidah'^
for Lancdot, now gave himself up to sehtkiienti
of deadly hatred and revenge against the a'dthorti
of this outrage. Rushing into the room where his
murdered brothers were deposited, he threw him-
self on their bodies, atid solemnly a^hte &at no
peace or truce should civer take pkce hifehireeii tim
and Lancelot, until that iiinocenit bkbd ^6uld be
expiated by the death of his enemy or by his own.
In the mean time that 6nfemy was starcely more at
his ease, being well acquainted with the noble and
manly but implacable mind of Sir GaWaln, whom
he had irreparably though unintentionally injured,
and therefore aware of the fatal consequences that
must ensue. But the die was now cast. He re-
tired to his strong cattle of la joyeuse garde, and,
dispatching messengers in all directions, soon col-
lected a large and well-appointed army; while
Arthur on his part sent to collect all his vassals,
and prepared to shed the best blood of the country
in the prosecution of this unfortunate and unnatural
warfare.

Sir Lancelot, who, though perfectly confident ki
the strength of his troops, was still desirous of pre-
veoting the effusion of blood, determined to make
a last effort for peace, and to dispatch a damtsel to
the royal camp, to declare '* that the accusation of

2 a2

356 MORTE ARTHUR*

Agravain was false^ and that he was ready to
maintain this assertion against all who might
gainsay it.*'

The maiden is ready for to ride.

In a full rich aparaylment,
Ofsamyte.* green, with mickle pride

That turought ivas in the orient f.
A dwarf shall wende by her side ;

Such was Launcelot's comaundement.
So were the manners in that tide.

When a maid on message went

This embassy, however, was rejected with dis**
dain \ and tlie king, having collected all his forces,
marched to the castle of la joyeuse garde, which
he blockaded on all sides. The strength of the
walls and of the garrison pf^cluded the possibility
of an assault ^ but during seventeen weeks of useless
siege, the king and Sir Gawain daily advanced to
the walls, accusing Sir Lancelot of treason and
cowardice, and defying him to a trial of strength
in the field 5 whilst the knight calmly answered,
that they would better show their wisdom by re-

* at rich silk.

f All dresses of extraordinary splendour and magnificence
are represented in our romances as coming from the East.

MORTB ARTHURv 357

linquishiDg a fruidess attempt^ and by sparing the
many brave men on both sides, who were perfectly
tminterested in the quarrel . But Bohort and Lyonel
were less tolerant than their commander, and at
their entreaty he was at length broi:^ht to accept
the often repeated chalki^e^ A dreadful battle
ensued, in which numbers were slain on both
sides 5 and Sir Ly<M)el was unhorsed and danger-
ously wounded by Gawain 5 while Lancelot^ over-
throwing all who opposed hkn, seemed to ride
through the ranks for the sole purpose of separating
the most obstinate combatants, and of stopping the

general carnage.
■■I
The king was ever near beside.

And hewe on him with all his mayn.

And he so courteous was^ that tide *,

f dint that he n*olde ^mite again.

Bohort de Gannes saught at last,

And to the king then gan he ride ;
And on his helm he hit so fast.

That near he lost all his pride.
The stede*s rigge under him hrast J,

That he to ground fell that tide j
And sith then wordys loud he cast

With Sir Launcelot to chide.

* diat time* f one. \ the horse's Iticit broke or bursts

;o '. i:

tr-uJ

t» ) . : -

<' And ulb bift bcrl^ i^ sq thfti
^^ Thy omv^f m^^ wt qif^ )

<' For ^n Iwftt vi»<iw4i<l4<Jwfl Wl^^ *'

" Alas,^ quod Launcelbt, "S»^6 fe me/
" That ever should I see wth sight,
''Before me him unhorsed be,
" The noble king that made me knight !
He was then so courteous and free.

That down off bis stede he 'light.
The king theron then horses he.
And bade him flee, gif that he might.

When the- king was horsed thore,

Launcelot lookys he upon.
How courtesy' was in him more

Than ever was in any mon.
He thought on things that had been ore |,

The tears from hisi eyen ran 5
He said, " Alas," with sighing sore^
*' That ever yet this war began !*'

* shalt thou. f czg^$ ^^fy* &c. Sax*

\ for ere, i. e. before ; thore for /Aere— both on account of
tkerhyne^

MORTB ARTHUR. 359

The battle^ however^ still coiitifmed^ till both
parties were coaipelled by lassitude ahd by the ap-
proach of night to withdraw : and such was the
rancour of Arthur, that the contest was renewed
on the following day > when the victory, after much
bloodshed, being gained by Sir Lancelot, and
Gawain and Sir Bohort, who had engaged in single
combat, being botli wounded, the siege was at
length abandoned, and Arthur retired to make
fresh preparations.

Such was, it seems, the celebrity of tliis war,
that it ultimately reached the ears of the Pope j
and the bishop of Rochester, being then at Rome,
teceived tlie commands of his holiness to repair to
Arthur and to Lancelot, with directions that the
latter should consent to restore the queen, that the
former should receive her into favour, and that in
case of their non-compliance the whole kingdom
should be laid under the papal interdict. Both
parties professed equal submission to the injunctions
of their spiritual father 3 and tlie only conditions
required by Sir Lancelot were, that the bishop
should solemnly pledge himself for the queen's
safety, and procure a safe-conduct for him to the
king, that he might lead her to court with due
ceremony, and see her reinstated in all her former

360 MOJITE ARTHUR.

honours. Th^ terms were readily conceded by
Arthur^ and an early day was appointed £(»: the
procession.

Launcelot and the queen wer^ cledde ^

In robes of a rich wede.
Of samyte white, with silver shredde.

Ivory saddle, and white stede ;
Saumhucs * of the same thredde.

That wrought was in the heathen thedef.
Launcelot her bridle ledde.

In the romans as we rede.

The other knights, everichone.

In samyte green of heathen land.
And then* kirtles, ride alone 5

And each knight a green garland ^
Saddles set with riche stone ;

Each one a branch of olive in hand.
All the £eld about hem shone j

The knightes rode ftdl loud singand.

Sir Lancelot, having formally restored the queen,
attempted to exculpate both her and himself; but
Arthur, as might be supposed, was more offended
than softened by such a justification.

* housings f land, nation. Sax.

MORTE ARTHUR. 361

•a

Then bespake him Sir Gawain>
That was hardy knight and free^
'' Launcelotj thou may it nought with-say'n,
*' That thou hast slain my bretliren three !
Forthy, shall we prove our main.

In field, whether shall have tlie gree*.
'^ Or'\ either of us shall other slay'n,
" Blithe shall I never be !"

Lancelot, having vainly urged in reply, that
Agravain had fallen the victim of his own treachery,
and that the other brothers had owed their death
to an unfortunate accident, and by no means to his
orders, again addressed himself to the king, and
inquired whether he was now to consider all hopes
of an accommodation as absolutely desperate?
Arthur replied in the affirmative. He then asked,
whether, on his promise to renounce immediately
his English possessions, to retire into Britany, and
never more to return, he might be assured of a
safe-conduct^ and of being left in the tranquil pos-*
session of his foreign dominions 3 and was told that
his departure should be unmolested : but Gawaln
added, that he would do well to prepare all his
means of defence, as the royal army was already
assembling, and would speedily be embarked to
attack him in his own territory.

* degree; superiority. f ere, until

36^ MORTE ARTHUR.

Lancelot^ after this unsuccessful confereace^ re-
tired ta his castle^ assembled his most zealous
friends f marched them to Caerleon^ and em-
barked for Britanj, where he was received with
enthusiasm by. his long-neglected subjects. He
began by rewarding the services of those who had
constantly followed his &)rtunes > he invested Sir
Bohort with the kiogdem of (xannes; bestowed
on Lyonel the crown of France formerly called
Gaul'j on Hector des Marais the sovereignty* of
his own dominions ; and divided amongst his other
friends tlie whole of the lands at his disposal^ re-
serving to himself little more than the strong city
and castle of Benwick^ which he plentifully sup-
plied with provisions, and secured by a select and
numerous garrison.

In the mean time king Arthur^ fully aware of
the importance and danger of the enterprise which
he was about to undertake, convened his council,
and represented to them the necessity of choosing
a viceroy to govern his dominions during his ab-
sence 5 and the unanimous choice of his barons
having fallen on his nephew Modred, he willingly
con&rmed their nomination, marshalled his army,
and embarked in pursuit of his enemy. After a
prosperous voyage he landed on the coast of Britany 3

wasted the country during hi& progress with fire
2

■ *j

MORTE ARTHUR. 36a

and sword ; and^ learniog that Sir X/ancelot had
shut himself up in his capital^ fiually encamped his
army at a short distance from the city.

Lancelot now called a council of war to deliberate
on his future operations. Sir Bohort, Sir Galahad,
and Sir Brademagus advised an immediate attack
on the' enemy in the open field 3 Sir Lyouel recom-
mended a defbnsive war 5 and Lancelot himself not
only supported the latter opinion, but even pro-
posed to send a new embassy to Arthur^ with such
proposals as he could not^ in common justice, ven-
ture to reject

The maid was full sheen* to shew.

Upon her steed when she was set 5
Her 'parayl all of one hue, *

Of a green velvet 3
In her hand a branch new.

For why that no man should her let.
Thereby men messengers knew.

In osies f when that men them met.

The king was locked in a field r

By a river broad and dreghe f ;
A while she hoved § and beheld 3

Favilyons were pight on high;

* beauiifuL f armies. \ slow (Sibbald's Gloss, v. dmcK)

§ waited.

364 MORTE ARTHUR.

She saw there many, comely teld *
With pommelles-f bright as goldis legheX',

On one hyng § the kingis shield ;
That pavyloun she drew her nigh.

Being accosted by Sir Lucan the botder, she
was introduced into the great hall of the royal tent,
where Arthur was seated with Sir Gawain^ and
falling on her knees delivered her credentials. She
then explained, verbally, the terms which she was
ordered to propose, viz. " that a truce should be
concluded for twelve months, during which the
contending parties should arrange the conditions of
a definitive peace 5 on the conclusion of which,
Lancelot promised 1*o repair to the Holy Land^ and
to pass the remainder of his days in acts of de*
votion."

Arthur summoned all his barons to deliberate on
these proposals, which he was personally desirous
of accepting, and which they unanimously con-
curred in approving j but the implacable Sir Ga-
wain sternly declared^ that, ** whilst the blood of
his brethren was unatoned, he was determined to
listen to no accommodation : that, if the king
thought £t to retire, he would sin^y prosecute the

^ painted, Ritson. f balls of the tents, Fr.
\ crown, Sax. § kung.

MORTB ARTHUR. 365

quarrel, with the aid of srlch friends as miglit be
induced to follow him -, but, that the king would
do well to recollect that the cause in which Agra-
vain had £dlen a sacrifice was personal to his
majesty 5 and that the other brothers had been
murdered in consequence of their obedience to tlie
royal mandate, on an occasion which they utterly
disapproved.'* Arthur could not withstand these
arguments. The messenger was dismissed ^ the
proposals rejected j and^oth parties prepared for a
war of extenninatiou.

Gawain was perfectly aware that nothing was to
be hoped from an assault, and that the city, if re-
ducible at all, could only be taken by famine -, but,
at least, he could gratify his resentment by daily in-
sulting his enemy : and so grating were these in-
sults, that, though they could not overcome the
patience of Sir Lancelot, they daily brought for-
ward the boldest of his champions. These suc-
cessively engaged in single combat with their per-
tinacious and provoking assailant, and were suc-
cessively overthrown, and many of them grievously
wounded, by the superiority of his skill and strength ;
whilst such were his grace and good fortune, t^at
during six months he constantly escaped unhurt
from these encounters. But his soul thirsted for
the blood of Sir Lancelot ^ and this patient ad-

366 MORT£ ARTHUR.

versaiy was at length compelled in honour to accept
the challenge.

The lord that great was of honodr;

Himself^ Su: Launcelot du Lake^ '
Above the gates, upon the tower.

Comely to the king he spake :
My lord, God save your honotlr !

Me is woe now, for your sake.

€<

**' Against thy kin to stand in stour * :
*' But needs I must this battle take."

We have already seen that Sir Gawain, though
always sufficiently formidable, possessed, by the
benediction of heaven, the peculiar privilege of
becoming doubly strong from undertime (nine
o'clock in the morning) till noon 5 and of this pe-
culiarity Sir Lancelot was well aware. He there-
fore exerted his utmost skill in parrying the blows
of his adversary, till he was compelled, by a ne-
cessary regard for his own safety, to seize an ad-
vantage offered by Gawain*s inconsiderate fury,
and to employ his whole strength in a blow which
terminated the contest.

Through the helm, into the lieved.

Was hardy Gawain wounded so.

That unnethe was him life leaved 5

On foot might he no fartlier go.

* battle.

MORTK ARTHUR. 867

But wightly his sword about he waved^
For ever he was both keen and thro-

Launcelot then him lyand leaved^
For all the world he n'olde him slo.

Launcelot. then drew on dryhe*^
His sword was in his hand drawn ^

And Sir Gawain loud gan cry,

'' Traitour and coward, come again 1
'' When I am whole, and going on hie,

'' Then will I pFove» with might and main ;
^' And yet, an thou wouldest nigh me nigh,

*' Thou shalt well wete I am not slain !'^

'' Gawain, while thou might stiffly stand,

" Many a stroke of thee I stood j
" And I forbare thee, in every land,

'^ For love, and for the kingis blood«
'* When thou art whole, in heart and hand,

'' I rede thee, turn, and change thy mood!
'^ While I am Launcelot, and man livand,

*' God shielde me from workes u/ode f !

'' But have good day, my lord the king,

'^ And your doughty knightes all !
'^ Wendeth home, and leave your warring ;

*' Ye win no worship at this wall !

probably icA»M/,(V. q-dreich, Sibbald's Gloss) f evil works.

368 MORTE AllTHUR*

*' Ah I would my knights out bring

*' I wot, full sore rue it ye shall ;
'* My lord, therefore think on -such thhig,

" How fele folk therefore might fell."

With these words, Lancelot calmly retired into
the city ; while Gawain was conveyed to his tent,
and consigned to the care of the king's phy^cians.

The wound was so severe, that during the first
fortnight his recovery was very doubtful : at length,
however, he was restored to health, and with it
to his implacable desire of vengeance. A second
.time he forced Lancelot into the field, and a se-
cond time, afler a long and doubtful conflict, was
brought to the ground by his gallant enemy, whom
he vainly tried to provoke by reiterated menaces and
insults to follow up his blow, and to rid him of a
life which was solely devoted to one fatal purpose.
Ilie sword had accidentally struck him on the place
of his former wound. His pain was greater, and his
recovery slower than before j and he was still unable
to carry arms, — ^when an unexpected piece of intel-
ligence compelled Arthur to abandon his enterprise
against Sir Lancelot, and to return with all speed to
England.

That fyhe traitour Sir Modred,

{The kinge^s foster-son he wes,
jind eke his own son, as I read.

Titer efore men him for steward ches,)

MOlRTE ARTHUR* S69

So falsely hath he Englatid. led,

Wete you well, withouten lese.
His erne* is * wife would he wed :

That many a man rued that resef !

As there was at that time little regular com-
munication between distant countries, and as no
event of sufficient importance to require the dis-
patch of a special messenger had occurred at the
siege of Benwick, Modred, who had tasted the
sweets of power, and was in possession of the royal
treasury, determined to spread a report of his
uncle's .death44U3ud^ji&a»i(ig(«suoGeeded<ii] this artifice,
summoned an assenibly of the principal lords, and
obtained from them his own election to the throne.
During the festival of hisr coronation, which took
^ place at Canterbury, he contrived to purcha^^e a
number of partisans to his cause, whom he dis-
patched to the coast with orders to levy troops, and,
in the event of Arthur's return, to oppose force hy
force. He next proceedeid to Winchester, ^^here
he procured such a number of adherents, that,
finding his power solidly established, he resolved on
marrying Guenever, whose beauty, it seems, was
still a necessary ornament to the court of a British
sovereign. But the artful queen, having obtained

* uncle's. f race, inroad, any act of violence.
VOL. I. 2 fi

370 MORTE ARTHUR*

a fortnight's respite, under pretence of arraying
herself with greater magnificence at the approach-

ing weddings ina4e her escape to London^ and^
shutting herself up in the tower with a strong
garrison of her friends, had the courage to set at
defiance the utmost efforts of the usurper.

As Modred was by no means disposed to relin-r
quish his purpose^ but lost no time in besieging his
intended bride^ the archbishop of Canterbury now
thought it his duty to interfere^ and marching in a
solemn procession^ preceded by the crucifix^ to*
wards the tower, made an exceUeat harangue to
the new king, reproaching him with his incestu-
ous intentions. Unfortunately, however, the ob-
ject of this advice had very little respect £oir the
church.

'^Ah! nice* clerk!" said Modred, *' then,

'* Trowest thou to warn me of n^ will?
'^ $y him that for us suffered pain,

'' These wordes shalt thou like full ill !
" With wild horse thou shalt be drayn,

" And hanged high upon a hill ! *•

The bishop to flee then was fain.
And suffered him his follies to fulfill.

* foolish.

MORTB ARTHUR. 371

Then he him cursed with book and bell

At Canterbury far in Kent j
Soon when Modred heard therof tell>

To seek tlie bishop hath he sent.
The bbhop durst no longer dwell j

But gold and sihrer hath he hent* ;
There was no longer for to spell^

But to a wilderness he is went.

Luckily for Guenever, the strength of the toww
rendered her more essential service than the tm^
precations of the poor archbishop; and her per-
secutor was compelled to relinquish his> siege^ fiX
the purpose of taking the necessary precautions
against his uncle's invasion.

In fact, Arthur had used all possible expedidoix
He shortly arrived with his fleet off Dover, where
he beheld with astonishment a large army of his
former subjects prepared to oppose his landing -, and
no sooner had he reached the shore, tlian his galleys
were attacked with such impetuosity that he lost
many of his best troops before he could effdpt' their
disembarkation. Amongst the slain was the '^ good
Gawain,'* who, though '^ sick and sore unsound **
so as to be unable to bear die pressure of his hel*
met, had called for his armour, and, encountering

* caugfht, collected in haste.
2B2'

372 MORTE ARTHUR.

the first rage of the assailants, had been killed by a
blow on his head at tlie beginning of the conflict.
Arthur, however, ignorant of his nephew's fate,
succeeded in his attack, made a great slaughter of
the enemy, and pursued them till night on the
road to Canterbury, where Modred was posted
with the main body of his army. On the next
morning the rebels boldly advanced to meet him,
and the hostile armies encountered on Barren-down,
where, after a bloody and decisive battle, Arthur
was again victorious. Here, while occupied in
burying the dead, whose barrows (as our author
assures us) are still visible, he first learnt the fete
of the illustrious Gawain, whose body he caused
to be removed from the galley where it lay, and
to be interred with all possible pomp *' in a chapell
amyd the quire" in the cathedral of Canterbury 5
after which, finding that Modred had retreated
into Wales, he proceeded to the westward as far
as Salisbury, whence he issued his orders for as-
sembling a fresh army, whom he appointed to join
him at Whitsuntide, and then continuing his march,
advanced still further into the West, where Mo-
dred had collected a large body of forces, and was
again ready to meet him in the field. It was de-
termined by mutual consent that this important
battle should take place immediately after the feast
3

• 'I

MORTK ARTHUR, 373

of the Trinity ; and Arthur, relying on the well-
tried valour of his veterans, though much inferior
in point of numbers, fondly anticipated the im-
mediate destruction of his rival, and his own re-
storation to the undisputed sovereignty of Britain.
But on the eve of the intended battle he had a
dreadful siveven (dream) 5 and. as the dreams of
Arthur were often more to the purpose than his
waking thoughts, the reader will be pleased to see
tliis in the words of the original.

At night, when Arthur was brought in bed,

(He should have battle upon the morrow)
In strong swevens he was be-sted.

That many a man that day should have sorrow.
Him thought he sat, in gold all gled *,

As he was comely king with crown.
Upon a wheel that fiill wide spread.

And all his knightis to him houn f .

The wheel was ferly J rich and I'ound,
In world was never none half so high }

Thereon he sat, richly crowned, \

With msiny a hesaunt, hroche, and ley e^,

* shining, Sax. ; or perhaps for glad, or clad.

f ready, obedient. \ wonderfully.
§ coins, ornaments, and crowns of gold.

374 MORTB ARTHUR.

He looked down v^n the ground,
A black water under him he seye ;

With dragons fele there lay unbound.
That no man durst them nighe nigh*

He was wonder 'feared to fall

Among the fiepdes there that fought ;
The wheel overturned there withall.

And everych by a limb him caught.
The king gan loud cry and call.

As marred man of wit unsought *.
His chamberlains waked him there withall.

And wodely f out of his sleep him brought.

All night gan he wake and weep.

With dreary heart and sorrowful Steven X j
And against day he fell on sleep \

About him was set tapers seven.
Him thought Sir Gawain him did keep.

With mo folk than men can nev&i 1 5
And a river that was broad and deep^

All seemed angels come from heaven*

The king was never yet so fein.

His foster-son when that he see ;
" Welcome," he said, '' Sir Gawain !
" Ah thou might live well were me !

* unsavedf L c who had lost hif viits, | violently.
i Toice, Sax. § name.

MORTIS ARtHUR* 375

" Now, leve friend, withouten kt^ *,
" What are tho folk that follow thee ?"
Certes, sir," he said again.

They bide in bliss, there I mot be.

*^ Lordes they were, and ladies hend,

'' This woiidis life that han forlorn \
*^ While I was man on life to lend,

'' Against their foen I fought themyom f .
^' Now find I them my moste friend,

*' They bless the time that I was bom \
" They asked leave with me to wend,

'^ To meet with you upon this mom.

*^ A month-day of truce must ye take,

'^ And then to battle be ye layn % i
*' You Cometh to help Launcelot du Lake,

" With many a man mickle of main.
" To-morrow the battle ye must forsake,
'' Or else, certes, ye shall be slain.**
Tlie king gan wofully weep and wake.
And said, *' Alas this mefiil rayn\V*

Arthur, on waking, did not fail to communicate
tx) his council the supernatural intelligence and ad-

• lying. f for.

\ for hourly ready ; on account of the rhyme.

5 cry, wund, Scot. (V. ranf, Sibbald's Gloss.)

376 MORTE ARTHUR.

vice which he had just received ; and they all con-»
curred in the propriety of postponing the battle, if
it should be possible to obtain the consent of Modred, *
for the purpose.

Sir Lucan the butler was appointed to conduct
this negotiation, and repaired with a hundred
knights as his attendants } and with a competent
number of bishops as his advisers, to the camp of
Modred, whom they found, in the first instance,
extremely brutal and untractable, but whom they
ultimately induced not only to accept of a truce,
but even to relinquish the sovereignty of the island,
on condition of being invested with an independent
and despotic government over the two countries of
Kent and Cornwall, with tlie further assurance of
succeeding to the throne after the old king's death.
But he also insisted that Arthur should ratify
this treaty in his presence, and before twenty-eight
knights as witnesses, fourteen of whom should
attend each of the contracting parties, and set their
hands to the convention in the sight of both armies.
Arthur readily acquiesced in these conditions 5 and
the rival chiefs, having selected the stipulated
number of attendants, advanced to the place of
meeting, which was a small eminence at an equal
distance from both camps. But each distrusted the
sincerity of the other. They therefore, after

MORTE ARTHUR. 377

marshalling their respective armies^ separately gave
orders^ that if on either side a sword should be
drawn, the trumpets should instantly sound the
charge, and tlie troops advance to the attack
without further inquiry.

The terms of the treaty were mutually accepted,
and the accommodation nearly concluded, when an
adder gliding from beneath a thorn-bush suddenly
stung one of the knights 5 who feeling himself
wounded drew his sword to destroy the reptile,
and thus inconsiderately gave the signal for battle.
Both armies had been equally desirous of peace,
and both were incensed to madness by a supposed
act of treachery which each imputed to the other.
The conflict thus urged on by individual hatred
could only terminate in their mutual destruction j
and at 'the close of this dreadful day Arthur found
himself supported by two knights only. Sir Lucaa
and Sir Bedwer, both of whom were grievously
wounded ; and Sir Modred stood quite alone, sur-
rounded by a confiised heap of slaughtered friends
and enemies. The old king, losing all recollection
of his dream at the sight of his nefarious rival,
seized a spear, rushed against him, and pierced
him through the body 5 but Modred at the same
instant raising his sword struck him on the helmet
with such convulsive strength, that the weapon in*

378 MOntn ARTHtJR.

flicted a mortal woand^ and Arthur simk in^'a s^roan
to the earth. When recovered from this fit, he W2A
conveyed to an adjoining hermitage ; but the ap<-
pearance of a number of peasants from the neigh-
bouring country, who were employed oh the field
of battle in stripping the dead, led his friends to re-
commend a second removal. Sir Lucan, however,
on attempting to take the monarch on his back,
•oddenly expired 5 upon which, Arthur, giving up
all hope of a further progress, callfed to Sir Bedwer,
and, delivering to him his good sword Escalibore,
adjured him to throw it into the sea, and to bring
him back an account of the tokens which he should
observe in consequence of this action. Su* Bedwet
accepted the commission, but, tempted by the
beauty and excellence of the sword, concealed it
under a tree, and returned to the king, to whose
question respecting what supernatural appearances
he had noticed, he was obliged to answer, that he
had seen nothing *' but waters deep and waves wan."
Though severely reproached by the king for his
treachery, and strictly enjoined to obey the com-
mand which he had received, he returned a second
time with an equally unsatisfactory answer, after
having thrown the scabbard only into the water ;
hat the indignation and menaces of Arthur, after
this second instance o( deceit, determined him

MORTE ARTHUR. 379

to return for the third time and to execute his
orders;

Sir Bedwer saw that bote was best.

And to the goode sword he went j
]nto the sea full far he it kest -,

Then might he see what that it meant.
There came an hand, withouten rest.

Out of the water, and fair it hent j
And brandished as it should brast.

And sitlie, as gleme away it glent.

To the king agsun went he there
And said, '^ Lief sir, I saw a hand 5
*^ Out of the water it come all bare,

<' And thrice brandished that rich brand,*'
*.' Help me ! soon were I thore !"
He led his lord unto the strand j
A rich ship, with masts and oar.
Full of ladies there they &nd.

The ladies, that were fair and free.

Courteously the king gan they fongj
And one, that brightest was of blee,
Weeped sore, and handes wrung.
*' Brother,** she said, ^' wo is me ;

'' From leeching hast thou been too long :
*' I wot, that greatly grieveth me 5
^' For thy painis are full strong! **

380 MORTE ARTHUR.

Sir Bedwer, thus separated from his master, of
whom he learnt at parting that he was going to the
isle of Avalon, in hopes of finding a remedy for his
wounds, continued to wander through the forest
till near day-break, when an unusually brilliant
light directed his steps to a small chapel adjoining
to a hermitage. This was the retreat of the pious
archbishop who had been persecuted by Modred.
He was on his knees before a newly-erected tomb
of gray marble, on the top of which was laid an
empty bier surrounded by a hundred wax torches.
Sir Bedwer, when the good man had finished his
devotions, inquired who was buried in that tomb,
on which he observed an inscription in golden
characters ; when the hermit replied, that he had
not hitherto attended to that circumstance, bis
curiosity having been suspended by his anxiety to
fulfil the sacred duties recommended to him. How
the tomb had been suddenly constructed he knew
not J but, about midnight the bier had been
brought by a company of ladies, who, with theii
own hands, had buried the body which it supported,
had left an offering of immense value, and had
directed him to pray incessantly for the soul of the
deceased. Sir Bedwer now examined the inscrip-
tion, and, finding that the dead body was that of
Arthur, requested leave to share the pious office

AfORTE ARTHUR. 381

"ivith the good bishop 5 from whom^ after making
himself known, he readily obtained' an admission
into the holy order of which tlie prelate had lately
taken the habit.

In the mean time queen Guenever, who, as we
have seen, had found an asylum in the tower, having
learned the fatal effects of the war, retired to a
nunnery at Ambresbury, where she took the veil,
together with five of her favourite attendants. Such
was the state of things when Sir Lancelot, who,
on first hearing tlie tidings of Modred's rebellion
had determined to assist the king with all his forces,
arrived with a large fleet at Dover.

The first information which he received on land-
ing was sufficient to convince him that he had come
too late for most of his purposes. The death of Sir
Gawain, the battle of Barren-down, and the sub*
sequent destruction of the royal and rebel armies,
were certain : but of the queen it was only known
that she had quitted the tower 5 the place of her re-
treat, and the motives of it, were not ascertained.
She probably still lived 3 she might perhaps still
want his assistance : at all events, it was necessary
that he should learn her wishes and intentions, to
which his own were always subordinate. He there-
fore resolved to depart alone in quest of Guenever j
and, having summoned his brother Hector, and hii

S%2 MORTE ARTHUR.

comins Bohort and Lyonel, directed them to wait
§0T his return during fifteen days j after which,
they might dispose of the army as they should
judge niost expedient.

Accident led him to the Yery spot which con-
tained the mistress of his heart. Almost ex-
tenuated with fatigue and hunger, he entered the
cloister at Amhresbury in search of food^ and was
instantly recognised by Guenever, who fell down
ID a swoon on his appearance. When recovered by
the care of the abbess and of the nuns, who hasten-
ed to her assistance, and were followed by the
knight, she pointed him out as the person whose
fetal affection for her had eventually produced all
the miseries by which the country was afflicted. She
then addi'essed herself to Sir Lancelot, and adjured
him instantly to quit her presence, lest he should re-
tard the arrival of that tranquil state of mmd which
ahe hoped by the grace of God to acquire, and
which might enable her, by a faithful discharge o£
the severe duties now imposed on her, to make
her peace with Heaven, and to expiate the enormous
transgressions of her former life. By returning to
his own country, by protecting his subjects from
foreign war and ftx)m domestic tyranny, by trans-
ferring to a wife those vows from which she wil-
lingly released him, he might yet expect many
1

MORTE ARTHUlR. 383

years of happiness founded on virtue and innocence |
and to this happiness, if the prayers of a sincere
penitent were of any avail, she yet hoped to con-
tribute. Lancelot replied that their guilt, whatever
was its extent, had been mutual, and must require
from both the same expiation ; that his decision was
' therefore involved in hers j and that, after bidding
her an eternal farewell, be should immediatly re-
pair to ^ome hermitage, and pass the remnant of
his days in fasting and in prayer. He then, as a
last favour^ requested a parting kiss ; which ahe
very wisely with-held, bestowing on him in its
stead a moral admonition, which was much more
likely to confirm him in his pious resolution.

Still pursuing his journey in the same direction,
he arrived at an extensive forest, through which he
wandered without a determinate object, till the
sound of a chapel-bell at last directed him to the
same hermitage which already contained Sir Bed-
wer and the archbishop. Here, after listening to
a circumstantial account of Arthur's death, he re-
ceived absolution from the holy prelate, and was
solemnly invested with the monastic habit -, and a
very few weeks elapsed before the pious congrega-
tion was increased by the addition of Sir Bohort and
four of his companions, who, when the fleet was

3d4 ffbfLTE ARTHUR.

sent back to Britany^ had set off in quest of their
commander. Sir Lyonel, with fifty knights^ who
had undertaken the same quests had been treache-
rously murdered on their passage through London.
Sir Hector^ having also departed in search of his
brother, took the northern road, and long wander-
ed over the country to no purpose.

During seven years. Sir Lancelot, who after a
proper noviciate was ordained to the priesthood, di-
stinguished himself by a life of the most active and
exemplaiy piety 5 but at length

It fell, against an even-tide,

That Launcelot sickened sely sare :

The bishop he cleped to his side.
And all his fellows less and mare.

He said, '^ Brethren, I may no longer abide j

" My baleful blood of life is bare -,
*' What boot is it to hele and hide ?
My foul flesh will to earth fare !

€€

^' But, brethren, I pray you to nightj^
*^ Tomorrow, when ye find me dead,

^^ Upon a bier that ye will me dight,
*^ And to Joyous-garde then me lead.

MORTE ARTHUR*. 385

'' For the love of God all might,

*' Buiy my body in that stead :
'' Some time my troth therto I plight -,

" Alas I mefor-thmketh* that I so did ! "

*' Mercy, sir," they said all three,

*' For his love that died on rood,
'' Giflf any evil have grieved thee,

*' It is but heaviness of your blood.
'' Tomorrow ye shall better be !

*' When were ye but of comfort good ?'*

Merrily spake all men but he.
But straight unto his bed he yode f ,

And cleped the bishop him until.
And shrove him of his sins dean, &c.

The holy brethren then retired to their repose,
but were wakened before day by strange shouts
of exultation uttered by the sleeping bishop, who,
being with diflBculty recovered from his slumber,
assured the brethren that he had seen the soul of
Lancelot ascending to heaven under an escort of
^' thirty thousand and seven angels«** The astonish*-
ed and somewhat incredulous hearers, having
lighted a candle, approached the bed of the knight 3

♦ repenteth, f yf^^*

VOL. X. 2 C

386 MORTS ARTSUJl*

and^ finding him quite stiff «id ccAd, no lodger
doabted the truth of the yision.

After five dajt emplaned in wabdiing the boc^^
and in reciting the service for the dead, they pro-
ceeded to execute the last comoaands of their friend,
and, conveying bkn €b a bier, arrived after i^ fort-
night's march at la Joyettse Garde. Here the^ in-
terred him with due solemnity i and here Sir Hec-
tor, after his tedious queit, had the good Soctune to
assist in praying for the soul of his brother, after
whose example he renounced the profeMion of
arms, and assumed the monastic habit. On their
return, tliey stopped ot the convent of Ambresbury,
where they learnt that Gucnever had died within a
few days of Sir Lancelot) th^ dierefiace took
charge of the body, which they deposited by the
side of Arthiir in the chapel of their hermitage,
which, receiving successive addtdons of holy men,
graduaUy grew up into the floarishing and cele-
brated monastery of Glastonbury.

The lamentations which attended diese mdan«
choly events being, in the metrical copy, rather in^
sipid,. have been omitted in our t%tPSCt, which we
shall close by the speech of Sir Bohort, as^ given
in Malory'is prose Compilation. '' And now I daie
say — that. Sir Lancelot, ther thou lyest, tliou were
never matched of hone earthly knight's hands.

MORTE ARTHUR. 387

And thou were the curfeist knight that ever bare
shielde. And thiou were the truest freende to thy
lover that ever bestrode horse ; and thou were the
truest lover^ of a S3mful man^ that ever loved
woman. And thou were the kindest man that ever
strok^with swerde. And tholi were the goodliest
person that ever came amonge prece (press) of
knyghtes. And thou were the meekest man and
the gentillest that ever eate in hal among ladies.
And thou were the sternest knight to thy mortal!
foe that ever put spere in the rest !**

.f-

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

R. Taylor & Co. Printers, 38, Shoe-Lane.

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